


Redemption

by deprough



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Betrayal, Brainwashing, Character Death, Get Together, HYDRA!Hawkeye, Happy Ending, I Promise that HEA, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, Nat King Coul, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Romance, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 53
Words: 103,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2231799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deprough/pseuds/deprough
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is imprisoned on Earth just as the Avengers learn one of their own is a HYDRA agent. When the evil organization captures the jotun, the heroes fear the worst. The Avengers agree they need to get him back, but the cost of retrieving him may be too high for some of them.</p><p>TW: Major character death, violent scenes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning. SHIELD falls and true loyalties are revealed.

The whispers of the air-conditioning unit over his head were a familiar melody. The spiders, which had skittered away when he had first established himself in the rafters, crept back, assessing the damage he’d done to their webs and traps. Only a few remained evicted; they stopped when their sensitive feelers tasted the repellent that he’d slathered on his skin six hours ago. It made bugs think he was a bigger creepy-crawly, which would keep them away. The rats wouldn’t come near until he disappeared and his scent had faded.

This was just another long, typical surveillance gig for Clint “Hawkeye” Barton, archer for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers.

Three men in black uniforms prowled the open area below him. A single guard dog walked obediently next to one, his or her nose working. It was their bad luck that Barton now smelled more like a hungry scorpion than a human. The objective was sitting in a cell in the middle of the room, a lean, hungry-looking man with a smile that could terrify or charm in turn.

A slight hum disturbed his veil of silence, originating from his thigh. It was a single second of vibration, muffled by cloth and mostly absorbed by his skin. Barton focused on the dog as the canine froze. The animal lifted his or her head as the long ears swiveled but didn’t seem to pinpoint the noise. “C’mon, Gracie,” her handler said in a bored voice, twitching the leash to get her in motion again.

Barton mentally chided the man for not giving Gracie enough credit as he crept his hand down to his pocket. In slow movements that didn’t produce any noise, the archer pulled his phone out of his pants and slid it into the lapel of his jacket. With the phone’s light blocked from the men below, he checked the text message.

It was two words. Barton read them three times. He checked the number: it was from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s HQ. It was real.

He felt a gnawing sense of regret but mostly anticipation. _I thought I had more time._ He’d hoped to finish what he started with Natasha, to bring her in. 

That was not to be.

A quick dance of his fingers on his bow signaled a change to different arrowheads. Hawkeye hooked his knees around the rafters and let his upper body drop until he hung like the world’s most lethal bat. He sighted on all the targets, drew and began. His string snapped three times and hesitated on the fourth. It wasn’t because he wasn’t sure of his shot. It was because Gracie wasn’t responsible for being here.

The dog yelped and bounced away from her handler as the man hit the ground, dead. The dog sniffed closely, whining. Her nose played over the shaft protruding from his back, confused by the scents on it. After a moment, Gracie pawed her human but he didn’t move.

Clint watched her with sympathy. Hooking a line to the rafters, he slid down the thin rope to the floor. Gracie backed away nervously, stopping when she caught the familiar smell of man under the bug-scent. “It’s okay, girl,” he said softly before turning to the cage.

The man inside watched him with boredom. For a man in a cell, he seemed to have all the time in the world. Barton knelt next to one of the downed men and dug an access card out of his belt. The archer moved to the cell and opened the door. “Let’s go,” he said to the former prisoner.

“It’s time, then?” the brunette man asked in a Scottish accent.

“Yep.” Barton turned toward the front door. He glanced at Gracie to find her lying by her dead master, her head resting on his back. Was that sadness in her eyes? He worried about her for a second before realizing that someone would come along and find her. She’d be taken in and given a home. “Let’s get out of here before someone comes.”

“Hey, Hawkeye.” The man’s call drew Barton’s attention back to him. “Hail H.Y.D.R.A.”

Barton’s lips curled in amusement. “Hail H.Y.D.R.A.”

 

* * *

 

Natasha Romanov stood with arms folded stiffly, her body wound so tightly it seemed she might break. She stared over the computers, her green eyes impatiently scanning the workstations. She didn’t seem to realize she was toying with the silver necklace at her throat, her fingers running over the tiny arrow over and over. She’d been like that for three days.

Steve put his hands on his hips, considering what to do to help her. The problem was that there was little he could do or say. It had been a week since he’d gotten out of the hospital and five days since Stark had arrived at the HUB with a fleet of moving trucks and an army of workmen. He’d also grabbed the remaining agents, hiring them on the spot and secreting them away to his tower, where he’d established a headquarters of sorts. No one had been around to protest Stark’s confiscation of the equipment. Why bother? Natasha had already released all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s secrets to the world.

“Cap.” Tony Stark stopped next to him, gazing out over the computers of the HUB.

“Stark.” Steve peered at the brilliant man. “You still haven’t answered my question - what is your plan for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“You mean the secret organization formerly known as S.H.I.E.L.D.? I think at best, they’re down to HD now.” Tony smirked at his own wit. “As in Homeland Division. Nothing else applies anymore. Of course, the ‘Logistics’ never really applied--”

“Not now, Stark.” Steve resisted the urge to be sharper with the man. Retorting to Stark’s biting sarcasm usually only fed it. “Why did you grab S.H.I.E.L.D.’s devices?”

As before, Stark avoided answering. “How’s Natasha holding up?” Stark’s voice had softened a touch; when Steve glanced at him, he saw a bit of concern in his eyes - just a bit.

“Not well. She’s waiting. Like we all are.” Captain America shifted slightly, hating the reminder of his own helplessness in this situation. “She needs closure. A place to rescue him from. A body to bury.”

Tony was quiet a long moment, his lips pressing together. “There’s a third option.”

Steve glanced at him again but this time, there was heat in his eyes. “It’s not an option.”

“Then why hasn’t he called in?” Stark began to pace, roaming back and forth behind the Captain’s wide shoulders. “Why don’t we have a ransom demand?”

“He could be somewhere he can’t reach us.” Steve didn’t think of himself as a pessimist at even the worst times. _I can’t conceive of the thought that Barton…_ His mind refused to finish the sentence as he grimly watched Natasha hold her terse vigil. “Held prisoner. It doesn’t mean that…”

Tony Stark stopped next to him, facing Steve’s profile. The first Avenger didn’t look at him but as the silence drew on, he finally turned to meet his eyes. Tony gazed at him with pity. “You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?” Steve spat the words at him. “You’ve already decided that Clint, our _friend_ -”

“I haven’t decided anything. I’m just willing to concede the possibility.” Tony moved like he was reaching for Steve’s shoulder, only to stop and push his sunglasses up on his head. “I don’t like it.”

“Clint’s not H.Y.D.R.A.” Natasha twisted to face them, her face equal parts angry and hurt. “I’d know.” She turned her back on the two men. Now Tony watched her with pity and concern.

“Captain?” The agent’s voice broke into the awkward silence and both men looked at the freckle-faced young man who stared with equal parts adoration and awe. “There’s a guy with a big hammer asking to see you.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An enemy returns to Earth and Tony lets his greed get in the way of his better sense.

“You could have mentioned the other guy.” Tony glared balefully the dark shadow standing just behind Thor. He was glad he’d called Banner on his way down; few mortals scared the insane Loki like the man who housed the Hulk.

The young agent flushed bright red and shuffled away from Iron Man, as if distance could remove the error of not mentioning Loki.

“What’s going on, Thor?” Steve got to the point, as he always did. It was one of the things that Tony liked about the man. The few things: the man out of time annoyed Tony far more than he amused him.

“My father wishes to establish a wardship.” Thor said the words with reluctance in his gravelly voice.

“A what?” Tony asked, even as the terrible, horrible answer occurred to him.

For once, Steve got it first. _Hell_ , Tony thought, _they probably still practiced fosterage when he was in diapers._ “Loki’s not a child,” the first Avenger said. Behind Tony, Banner laughed dryly, mumbling something about terrible ideas.

“Not physically.” Natasha’s comment was scathing but her voice lacked venom. The godling still sneered at her and started to reply.

“Loki.” Thor’s reprimand closed Loki’s mouth, though it didn’t erase the haughty curve to his lips. The blonde godling sighed through his nose and looked at his team. _Oh, I am not gonna like this_ , Tony thought, taking in the pinched expression on his otherworldly teammate’s face. “My father Odin would like to offer a deal with the Avengers.”

“What kind of deal?” Steve looked curious but not ready to commit.

Thor didn’t beat around the bush. “You will take Loki, my brother. You will watch him, guard him, and teach him humility.”

Tony’s lips twisted sharply. “Yeah, not seeing a benefit to us. None of those things are on my list of things to do to Loki.”

“My father has authorized the release of Asgardian technology in exchange.” Thor was somber as he looked at Tony. “He would give it to you, in exchange for your accepting the fosterage.”

Tony tensed. Asgardian tech had been on his Christmas list for a while; he’d thought he’d jump at any chance to tear some apart. _Leave it to Loki’s father to figure out a way to make me not want it._ “To me? Why?”

Thor smiled slightly, the corner of his lip turning up despite his serious demeanour. “Because of how much Loki complained about you upon his imprisonment on Asgard. Your name was a curse on my brother’s lips.”

“I merit mention in the realms beyond?” Tony smirked as he pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be.” This time, Loki spoke before his brother could shush him. He stared sulkily at them all, his green eyes narrowed and petulant.

“There’s still the little matter of _Phil_ between us.” Tony took a step forward as if his rising anger propelled him forward.

“And what you did to New York.” Bruce Banner joined Tony’s glare.

“And what you did to Clint.” Natasha remained where she was, staring coldly at the alien godling.

“Come now. That wasn’t so bad.” Loki smiled with false benevolence. “I did that for his own good.”

Three strides put her in his personal space. Steve caught her just before her fist caught his face. “Aww,” Tony murmured, disappointed that he didn’t get to see her punch out the godling. “Why’d you stop her?”

The geriatric Boy Scout just gave him an annoyed glance. “We can talk about this, together.” Steve pointed a thick finger at Loki. “Not you. You aren’t a part of this discussion.”

The godling smirked coldly in his arrogant way but didn’t argue. Tony frowned a little, wondering why Loki was being more cooperative than normal. “I really don’t see why we should do this, Thor.”

“For the sake of Asgard.” The blond man was somber as he said, “The Svartalfar, the Dark Elves, did much damage to the city. In their wake, the Chitauri have become more aggressive, using Jotun, Rock Trolls and other old enemies of my people to assault our homeland. They have demanded we hand my brother over to him. Loki’s actions have further weakened the realm and should he say there, he will die. If you do not take him, my father will execute him.”

“His own father?” Steve’s eyes widened in surprise before shooting over to rest on Loki. Tony watched the black-haired criminal for a reaction. Loki merely smirked but the brilliant inventor could see that his emotions were too smooth, too fake. The All-Father’s decision had cut his adopted son to the bone.

“So who is pushing this deal? You or Daddy?” Tony asked, pushing a little harder on that pain. He wanted to see Loki break and bleed, even if only emotionally.

“Father agreed to it,” Thor says evenly.

That didn’t answer the question but Tony was satisfied. This was Thor’s idea and the All-Father had to be coaxed into it. “I want to know what we’d get for him.”

“We are _not_ seriously considering this offer,” Natasha spat angrily.

“We are not, because it is my offer.” Tony paused to let that sink into the team. He felt rather than saw Natasha’s glare at the back of his head. Part of him wished she wasn’t standing behind him but moving would telegraph his discomfort. Besides, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t shoot him in the back.

Pretty sure.

“My father has a list of things he’d be willing to gift to you.” Thor extended a piece of paper to him.

“Really? Paper? You guys have science-magic and you’re handing me paper?” Tony said, scowling as he took it from Thor. He _hated_ being handed things.

“The All-Father no doubt didn’t believe you could handle being shown a list on a more advanced medium,” Loki sneered. It was hard to tell if he was taking a jab at Odin or the Avengers. Tony opted to believe it was both.

He scanned the list. It wasn’t long with maybe fifteen things on it. Their names were archaic and unhelpful. “What is all this stuff?” he asked, falling into negotiator mode.

Loki gracefully hopped forward and plucked it from his fingers. Thor snatched the list away but not before the dark-haired sibling had skimmed it. “Ancient Asgardian tech,” Loki said, dismissively. “I’m sure it would be far beyond your knowledge but it is centuries old. It is also _hardly_ a suitable ward-price for someone of my standing.”

“Right now, you stand beneath my boot.” Tony stared the weaselly little monster in the face. “You’re going to say in line or I’ll sick Banner on you. I understand that the Hulk doesn’t often get the chance to practice his backswing like that.” Bruce smiled like he found that idea appealing. Tony turned to Thor. “Tell Odin I’ll accept _if_ we get some of the newer stuff too. It doesn’t have to be weapons if he’d afraid of us puny mortals. I’ll be happy to accept medical equipment. Maybe he’ll be willing to let us play with something other than the Asgardian equivalent of string and tin cans if it’s _just_ to save human lives.”

“You trust Loki’s lies?” Natasha’s words were calm and even cool but Tony knew her better than that.

The owner of Stark Industries turned to her. The set of her jaw, the glare: she wasn’t mad, she was _furious_. Tony didn’t blame her but she wasn’t thinking. She saw the short term right now, which was okay because he was here to take the long view. “I trust that he wants to poke his dad in the eye enough to point out where Odin’s trying to shortchange us. I also trust that his pride won’t allow that to pass without comment. But most importantly, I trust that Thor _didn’t_ disagree with him.” His stance stated, Tony turned back to the brothers.

Loki grimaced while trying to cover it with an arrogant smirk. Thor looked relieved, actually smiling at Tony, revealing that the idiot did love his brother. Behind them all, Black Widow spun on her heel and stalked away, her fury almost palatable.

“I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you, man of iron,” Loki said with a smirk.

Tony was already regretting his decision. He didn’t like it either but he needed the Asgardian technology to give him the edge in the future. The fate of everything he loved - humans, his planet, Pepper - hinged on it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betrayal is revealed and Natasha finds a personal message in death.

Natasha held herself stiffly as she watched the monitors. Everyone knew to look for her down here now. They didn’t bother calling her - they just walked down to the NewHUB. That was the name some of the former S.H.I.E.L.D. employees called the room Stark had given them. Natasha wished they’d pick a different name altogether. She knew the value in renaming something, in giving it a figurative facelift.

Not for the first time, the former agent wondered what Stark’s plans were. He was acting too methodically to not have one. Natasha wanted to know what it was but the billionaire was being annoyingly tight-lipped.

 _A Glasgow Smile would loosen up those lips_. Despite the gruesome imagery of extending Stark’s smile with a knife, Natasha didn’t really feel like doing it. Yes, he’d taken that _suka_ into the tower, locking him into a cell he’d built in the basement. _Because putting Loki in a cell built to hold the Hulk worked **so** well last time._

She wasn’t going to visit him this time.

_“Is this love, Agent Romanov?”_

_“Love is for children. I owe him a debt.”_

_A sneering, knowing smile, a smoothly taken seat. A predator waiting, his green eyes glittering. “Tell me.”_

“Where are you, Clint?” She wasn’t aware that she’d spoken aloud until she caught the empathetic glance from the technician to her left. Natasha seared the woman with an undeserved glare and the tech hastily turned her attention to her screens again.

 _Pull it together, Romanov._  

Natasha took a deep breath to soothe her nerves. It was hard; she was on edge and strung out. If Clint had been here, he would have been bringing her coffee or pushing her to take a nap. Her chest hollowed out at the thought. 

A face flashed on the screen and Natasha was in motion before she thought about moving, slipping through the computer stations to lean over the tech’s shoulder. The young man swallowed nervously but didn’t complain as she grabbed his mouse and wound the video back. It was only seconds long, of Clint walking out of a door before turning and shooting out the camera. 

“Where was that?” Natasha asked, her voice low and intense. 

The technician opened his mouth then clicked his teeth shut as he caught sight of something on the other side of her. Natasha turned to see Stark standing at the end of the row of computer. “A moment of your time, Agent Romanov?” 

Her stomach knotted into a tighter ball. He’d used her title and last name, and there was no banter or joking in his gaze. It was bad, whatever ‘it’ was. Natasha nodded sharply and walked toward him, aware of the technician sagging with relief behind her. “Did you find him?” she asked in a whisper when she joined Stark. 

“Yes.” His hands, strong from years of DIY battlesuits and weapons, curled around her arm and guided her into his office. It was a short walk up the stairs and into the room, where glass walls watched over the NewHUB. No one could get away with playing Galacta here. 

Stark turned to her and with no preamble said, “I’m sorry.” He held out a tablet, a video already loaded on it. Natasha’s hands shook as she took the device and numbly hit the triangle to start the playback. 

She knew where it was immediately. She’d been to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s holding cells in Cambodia more than once, dropping prisoners off on their way to the Fridge or other classified holes where they hid the most dangerous criminals. The place had no real name, only the designation Holding 04. Natasha had wondered more than once if there were three more holdings somewhere in the world or if that was just to throw people off. Knowing S.H.I.E.L.D., it could be either way. 

The three guards walking around the cell fell within seconds of one another and Natasha locked away the rising grief. She stilled the tremble in her lips and swallowed the angry curses. _Not Clint. Please, no, not Clint._  

He dropped into the room and popped open the cell. Natasha recognized the occupant as Jerome McCulloch, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most recent captures. 

One of Clint’s most recent missions. 

When he walked out of the room, she stopped the video. “I guess you were right, Stark.” Her voice didn’t shake; her training made it almost effortless to close off her pain and emotions. 

“I didn’t want to be,” he promised her, not that it mattered. His eyes studied her with concern. “If you need to talk-” 

“You’d be the last person I’d talk to.” There was no harshness to her words, only cold truth. 

“I was going to say that you should talk to JARVIS.” Stark’s lips quirked upward, a silent admission that he was shit when it came to consolation. “He’s surprisingly therapeutic, doesn’t judge-” 

“I’m fine.” The chain around her neck felt like a lead weight, not a cherished memento. She handed him back his tablet, her motions controlled. “How did we get that?” She didn’t think it was a fake. That was false hope and she didn’t indulge in that anymore. 

“It came off a S.H.I.E.L.D. satellite, stored via automatic upload.” Stark took the tablet, his expression still worried. It was almost touching. “The image you saw on the main floor was from the same place.” 

“I’d like to go check Holding 04 out.” Natasha forced a smile as she gazed up at him. “Got a plane I can borrow?” 

Stark put the tablet on the desk behind him. “Yes. I even have a pilot for you.” 

Something about the way he said it raised her eyebrow. “Is he or she a _good_ pilot?” 

“He’s logged a few hours in the air,” Stark answered evasively. 

Natasha stifled a sigh. “It’s you, isn’t it?” 

“I can fly. Rather, my pilot can fly my private jet to Cambodia, and once there, we can get you the rest of the way.” 

Natasha’s other eyebrow joined the first. “We?” 

“The team’s going.” Stark held up a finger when she attempted to protest. “We’re a team. If Clint’s compromised, we’ll take care of him and bring him home.” 

She wanted, so badly, for it to be Loki all over again, for someone to have unmade him so she could remake him. “And if he’s H.Y.D.R.A.?” 

Tony’s voice changed and grew hard. “We’ll bring him home.” _To a cell_ , he didn’t add. “Be ready in an hour.”

 

* * *

 

The jungles of Cambodia still smelled hot and wet, like breathing through a soaked towel in a too-hot shower. The helicopter’s rotors slowly wound down behind them but Natasha could still hear the distinct sound of Iron Man’s thrusters as he took a lap around the building. It was, to all appearances, a simple one-story building meant to be someone’s home. Holding 04 was underneath the house, buried in the ground. 

“No surprise. They know we’re coming,” the captain noted, looking like a hero in his suit. Natasha still looked like a dangerous woman, ready for anything, comfortable with everything. Bruce and Thor had remained at the tower; Stark had deemed it unwise to leave Loki alone just yet, even if he was in a cell. 

“He’s not here anyway.” She’d known that from the moment they touched down. One of the jeeps was gone, while the others had their hoods propped open and their tires flattened. “Clint and McCulloch are long gone.”

Captain America nodded in agreement. A soft sound came from the open doorway and they tensed as a shadow moved. Natasha had her guns out when the dog stepped into the light. A S.H.I.E.L.D. badge hung from her collar and she moved toward them slowly. “C’mon here, honey,” Steve coaxed, dropping to one knee and holding out his hand. The German Shepherd inched forward, her nose twitching. “I think you’ve been out here a while. Look, her coat is matted and I think she’s hungry.” 

Natasha smirked at the man and his new friend. Trust Steve to befriend an innocent with ease. “There’s food in the cockpit. Stark and I can check out the building.” 

Captain America looked up at her, his hands buried in the dog’s ruff. “Are you sure, I can come with you-” 

“I think that the dog was the only agent left alive.” Natasha swallowed. _Clint killed them all._ That was the new reality, and she should get used to it. “We can handle an empty prison.”

Iron Man joined her at the door. “I’ll go first. Normally, I’m more gallant than that but I can take an arrow better than you.” 

 _Clint wouldn’t hurt me._ Her fingers brushed over her necklace again. Natasha knew as well as the next realistic woman that ‘not me, never me’ was the theme song of the abused-to-be. She didn’t know Clint, not really. He’d proven that. He could very well put an arrow in her without second thought. 

They searched the building without incident. Holding 04 was shallow, with stairs instead of an elevator and only three levels. The cameras had been taken out all along the route - why? Why had he bothered to blind a dead building?

Natasha stopped on the fourth landing when she saw the body with an arrow sticking out of it. _Oh, Clint. Why?_ She knew she wouldn’t ever answer that, not to her satisfaction. Nothing could ever explain Clint going rogue to her. 

They were in the holding room before Natasha realized that he’d left the arrows behind. Staring down at the three S.H.I.E.L.D. guards, their lives extinguished because they were doing their jobs, Natasha felt horribly guilty. She should have noticed the arrows immediately instead of getting all the way down here. He _always_ collected the arrows to salvage arrowheads and shafts. 

So why hadn’t he this time? 

“What are you doing?” Stark asked sharply when she grasped the shaft of the arrow. 

Natasha wrenched the weapon loose. “I’m investigating.” Turning the arrow, she saw an inscription on the flat triangle of the head. 

“What is that?” Stark asked. 

“A message,” Natasha said grimly as she started to collect all the arrows.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha goes to Budapest and more betrayals are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I failed to put this up yesterday like I should have. I'm sorry, I suck. :( 
> 
> I hope you enjoy anyway!

“‘Remember Budapest.’ What does _that_ mean?” Tony asked, staring at the arrowheads she’d arranged on the table. The letters etched into the flats of the heads now made words. 

“It was a mission we did together.” The Black Widow had spoken little on the trip back to the tower. 

“Mission?” Steve asked, his voice distracted by the dog stretched out at his feet. No one had argued against bringing Grace back; no one had really cared. Steve rubbed a foot against her belly and she rumbled with pleasure, rolling onto her side. 

“What happened on that mission?” Stark pressed. 

Natasha looked away, while Steve watched her closely. He was worried about her. She sealed away all her feelings and didn’t deal with them. He’d seen guys do that after combat and it never ended well for them. “Budapest was a mess.” Her voice was distant and soft, her eyes unfocused and looking into the past. “Clint was there to find an operative and terminate her. He ran into the local mob boss, who had the operative as his girlfriend. She was there to break up his ring and allow another agent to move in and take over the top spot in the criminal ring.” 

Natasha fell silent. “What were you doing?” Thor asked, his voice curious. 

 _She was the operative._ Steve stopped moving his foot and Grace lifted her head. He held out a hand to her and the dog rose to slip her nose under his fingers. He kinda wanted to keep her but with the search for Bucky, he wasn’t sure he’d be around enough to take care of her. He’d find her a good home, the best. 

“I was the operative. Over a year, I had divided the gang into two factions, those following the boss and those following me. The plan was to bring in a fellow Russian operative and give him control of the gang, stage my death and move on to the next assignment.” Natasha didn’t look at any of them as she said, “I was eighteen.” 

Steve frowned, his brow furrowing at her words. He didn’t like this already. He glanced at Banner and saw the smart man had done the same math that Steve had done: she’d started that mission at the tender age of seventeen - or earlier. She had to infiltrate before she could divide. 

“My manipulations were finally coming to a head. All I had to do was smile at the right man, and be sure that the boss’s right-hand man saw me do it. When I did, all war broke out in the room.” Natasha’s voice was level as she spoke, almost monotone. Steve had seen her like that when Fury had ‘died’, though she’d displayed more emotion on her face then. Of course, she’d had more than a week to worry and grieve - and to hide those emotions away. 

He did know that this death just as traumatic as Fury’s had been, even if Clint was alive. Worse, it was the death of her feelings about a friend and sometimes that was harder to bear than death itself. 

Even as he worried silently, Natasha continued. “Clint was supposed to kill me and stabilize the situation. He made another call.” Her voice caught ever-so-slightly on those words. “We fought our way out together, after he told me he wasn’t going to kill me.” There was more to that story; Steve could hear it in her words. He wondered if she’d ever trust him enough fill in the blanks. 

He wondered if she’d ever be able to trust anyone like that again. 

“The question is,” Bruce said softly from the end of the table, “what does he want you to remember? That he spared your life?” 

Natasha shook her head. “I’ve never forgotten that. No, it’s something else. Something about Budapest itself...” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “It _could_ be the safehouse.” 

Steve stepped in, hoping he was asking the right question. “What was special about it?” 

“Nothing. It was…” Her voice trailed off oddly and Steve had the sudden feeling that he was poking at an uncomfortable wound. “A typical house. Coulson met us there and Clint talked him into recruiting me for SHIELD.” Her green eyes were still distant and the flat way she spoke gave Steve chills. 

“Did anything else happen in Budapest?” Stark leaned forward. 

A spark of life came back into her green eyes. “Yes. Something did.”

 

* * *

 

This time, it was just her and Steve. It hadn’t made Stark happy but Steve had backed her opinion that Clint hadn’t set a trap. What Natasha didn’t tell him was that she _wasn’t_ sure he wouldn’t be waiting for her. The simple fact is that if it was, she wanted to be caught. 

She _needed_ to talk with him, and she knew she could escape him. Of the two of them, she was always the more resourceful when stripped down to nothing. 

The bridge was just as she remembered it. Budapest’s Chain Bridge stretched across the Danube, its lights making it glow even in the junction between the brightness of Buda and Pest. Natasha walked out onto the bridge, slipping past couples holding hands. Seeing the happy pairs brought back bad memories of her last time in the city. 

“What are we doing?” Steve caught up with her but didn’t try to take her hand- 

 _“Tasha, wait!” A warm hand slipping into her cold one, pulling her to a stop. Another warm hand brushing away her tears._  

-instead falling into step beside her. 

“If he’s leaving me a message, it’ll be here.” Reaching the first pillar, Natasha gripped the railing and hopped over the edge. She heard Steve yelp her name but by then, she was already climbing down under the edge of the structure, reaching up into the junction between metal and stone. The first crevice her fingers explored was empty but in the second, she felt a plastic tube. 

She pulled it out, hoping it wasn’t random trash. Instead, a red arrow on the black background told her that she’d found the clue. Her fingers tightened around the plastic. This was proof that Clint still reached out to her, too. 

The arrowhead had a red HYDRA symbol imposed over it but she did her best to ignore that for now. 

Steve’s features relaxed as she pulled herself over the edge. He took the tube when she thrust it at him, slipping it into his coat before offering her a hand up. She allowed him to help her climb over and then they hurried away before the bystanders could call the police. 

“A bit of warning next time?” Steve asked, his tone irritated. 

“I thought you could keep up.” The moment she spoke, she realized that she’d fallen into the same light banter she’d adopted with him while hunting the Winter Soldier - and the same banter she used with Clint and Phil on _their_ missions. 

They headed to the airport and right back onto Stark’s plane. As the pilot and crew tended to things silently in the background, Natasha held out her hand for the tube. Steve hesitated before passing it to her. 

She pulled off the top and fished out the paper inside. Holding it flat, she started to read: 

 _Natasha,_  

 _I’m sorry for many things in my past. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you what was really going on with me. I couldn’t, not until I knew whether you’d accept it. I guess I did too good a job convincing you to join the good guys, and not enough of one explaining what the greater good means. I had hopes you’d understand and join us anyway but after uploading all our secrets I don’t think you’re suitable for membership._  

 _I’m sorry I couldn’t get you to join us. I’m going to miss you, Natasha. Please stay away from me. I don’t want to have to kill you._  

 _Clint_  

 _P.S.: Not all of SHIELD’s secrets were revealed in the upload._  

The second piece of paper was a color printout of a photo. In it, Phil Coulson was climbing out of a van, laughing at something Melinda May was saying. Natasha looked to the bottom of the page, where the time/date stamp was noted like a small accusation. 

“That’s from a few months ago.” Steve sounded shocked but not angry. 

That’s okay. Natasha was angry enough for both of them. “Phil’s alive.” 

She was going to _kill_ him when she found him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony convinces Natasha to do something stupid.

Natasha stopped in the doorway to the holding cell, blinking at the sight of Loki in his cell. It wasn’t the sight of the godling, but of his cell. It reminded her of the cage Fury had built for the Hulk but its interior was furnished with a few comforts. A bed contained a couple of pillows and was layered with soft, thick blankets, while the fainting couch was upholstered and comfortable. A small coffee table was stacked with various books. The toilet hid behind a short partition but the shower’s walls were mostly clear glass. The prisoner was slouched on a chair, studying the objects on the table in front of him. 

Loki’s eyes flicked up to her, their green depths bored. When he saw it was her, the boredom faded and he smiled eagerly at her. It wasn’t a happy eagerness. 

Natasha didn’t smile back. She looked at Stark, an auburn eyebrow raised. “You gave him Legos?” 

“It seemed cruel to not give him something to do.” Stark shrugged as he added, “He kept eating the play-doh.” 

“This isn’t a joke, Stark.” Natasha spat the words angrily. She had little patience for the billionaire at the best of times and this was not the best of times. _I wish Steve were here. Then he could deal with Stark._ The First Avenger was gone with Sam, chasing down a lead on Bucky Barnes down in Mexico. 

“No, it isn’t. The Asgardian tech… it skips a few steps from where we are. So I need him.” Stark looked beseechingly at her. “I just need you to get in there and work your magic on him. Convince him to help us.” 

Natasha shook her head. “You can’t trust him.” 

“I am aware. I still need him.” Stark gestured vaguely with his hands, his motions filling a wider space than he actually occupied. “Thor tries to help but even he admits that Loki got the brains in the family.” 

“He’s adopted.” Natasha reminded him. 

“I really just need him compliant enough to pick his brains. I have no desire to let him, you know, touch anything or have access to any technology more complex than a paperclip.” Tony gave her his best pleading look. “You’re the only one here smarter than him who is also underestimated by him.” 

“I doubt I can fool him again.” The Black Widow looked at her future quarry again. Loki had his eyes locked on her, watching her intently. 

“Then don’t. I just need you to manipulate him.” Stark paused a second and added, “You think you can handle that?” 

“Yes.” Natasha turned from Stark and walked up to the cage. Loki rose from his chair, leaving the partially completed castle behind. Natasha noted that he was building the complex structure without directions. She turned on the intercom and said, “Loki, Stark needs you to explain how Asgardian technology works. Would you be willing to do that?” She could _feel_ Stark’s rising anger behind her. 

“Why should I help my gaolers?” he asked in that smooth voice. 

“Because otherwise Stark’s going to leave you down here with nothing to do but play with children’s toys and…” She glanced at his stack of books. “read Harlequin Romance novels.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I hear that _Rumors that Ruined a Lady_ is quite good.” 

“It’s one of Pepper’s favorites,” Stark added from behind her. 

“Your choices are to stay and be bored or help the people who were paid to _save your life_.” Natasha stared at him pointedly. “That might be mildly entertaining for you.” 

Loki’s cynical expression faded at her words. “Why,” he almost whispered, “are you the only one who makes me falter?” 

Natasha twisted her lips into a seductive smile. “It’s because I’m smarter than you.” 

His green eyes blinked in surprise before he sneered at her again. “That is impossible.” 

Natasha snorted softly at his predictable answer. “Believe what you will. What’s your answer, yes or no?” 

Loki studied her expression for a long moment, pondering his reply. Natasha gave him the time to think though his answer. “Yes,” he said finally, “but I’ll only explain them to you.” He gave her a thin, mocking smile. “Since you are smarter than Stark.” 

Of course Stark couldn’t let that go unanswered. “I believe that has yet to be established.” 

The last thing Natasha wanted to do was spend a lot of time alone with this being. “It’d be faster to explain them to Stark-” 

“I don’t care. I don’t like him.” Loki glared briefly at the man over her shoulder. When he turned his gaze back to her, he leered, “At least you are pleasing to the eyes.” 

 _Gross._ Her expression didn’t betray her thoughts as she turned to look at Stark; his shrug told her it was her choice. He didn't care since he had the room bugged and no doubt would insist on feeding her questions through an earpiece. She didn’t want to do it but this mission was no different than any others she hadn’t wanted to do. It would also give her something to do other than mindlessly hunt for Clint and Phil. “Fine. You get four hours a day.”

He smiled like he had won a victory - perhaps to him, he had. “Shall we begin?”

 

* * *

 

“-and then the quantum field collapses so that the ostrium component-”

“No, no, no.” Loki had his arm resting over his eyes as he sprawled across his fainting couch. He’d assumed that pose many times in the last four days. “Not ostrium.”

Natasha rotated her head, feeling every second of today’s three hours, twelve minutes spent with her insufferable tutor. “You said ostrium earlier.”

“He said olustrium.” Stark’s voice filled her right ear, souring her mood further.

“No, I said _olustrium_.” Loki dragged his arm off of his face, his face twisted with disgust. “Why did I think you were the smartest of them again?”

“It _couldn’t_ be that you’re a horrible teacher.” Natasha had attempted to cut back on the sarcasm around Loki but that resolution had flown out the window during their first session. She rubbed her neck, craning it at the same time. Her head was _pounding_.

Loki sat up, tilting his head to the side. “Are you in pain? You act like you are.”

“Yes I am hurting. You are a massive headache.” Natasha’s words were sharp and cutting, and she shut her eyes to block out the overhead lights.

Loki was quiet for a long moment. “I haven’t taught anyone before.”

His voice had softened and Natasha looked up at him. She matched his tone as she replied, “It does show. Can I make a suggestion?” She wasn’t sure he’d be open to one but it didn’t hurt to ask. He nodded, strangely agreeable. Natasha wondered how long that would last. “Let’s work for twenty minutes on Asgardian tech and then I’ll spend the next five minutes teaching you about Earth.”

His face screwed up in confusion. “Why would I want that?”

 _That is a good question and I hope you don’t find out why I think you should learn about us._ Natasha smiled. “Shouldn’t you know about the people you wanted to rule?”

Loki hesitated. Natasha noted his silence with interest. “Doesn’t seem to have a good answer to that, does he?” Stark noted in her ear.

“I didn’t think it was important,” Loki admitted. “Getting the throne was the goal.”

“It is important. If you’d know how we humans are, then you’d know that humans won’t be ruled by an invader.” Natasha smiled. “We take the invasion of our world rather personally.”

Arrogance blossomed on his face. “Humans squabble and fight like animals. You couldn’t have stood up to the might of the Chautari.”

“Oh, we fight amongst ourselves, just like you and Thor fight.” Natasha leaned forward to emphasize her point. “But when someone else picks on us, we close ranks and fight back.” She rose from her seat.

“Wait, we still have thirty minutes.” Loki looked vaguely panicked though he hid the expression quickly.

 _Interesting._  One of the first lessons of the Red Room was that everyone was vulnerable to being manipulated. _Everyone_. Her instructors had proven it by manipulating everyone in the group. All humans had triggers, gaping holes in their psyches that could be used against them. Asgardians had them, too. 

She knew from Thor that Loki had Daddy Issues. Natasha loved those. They were the most fun. Ironically, she didn’t want to use it against him as much as use it to help him see the truth. To help Earth lose one more enemy.

“I do have a headache.” She let her voice sound torn, wondering if he were lonely.

“You can take the thirty minutes left to lecture me on humanity.” Loki smirked at her, his mask in place.

“Okay.” Natasha sat down on her chair again. “Let’s continue to discuss humans banding together against an outside threat.”

“I truly thought that if presented with an overwhelming force they would see sense.” Loki sat down, and Natasha noted that he was mirroring her. “Had I successfully invaded New York, even after winning, they would have fought me?”

“Yes.” Natasha tilted her head. “Do you remember the older man in Berlin?” She waited until Loki’s expression showed comprehension and he nodded, his head ending at a similar tilt to hers. “Had you shot him down, the crowd might have remained bowing to you. That man would have been a symbol for a rebellion against you. Another in the crowd might have risen to try to take you down. You caught them off guard, Loki. But once they were used to the idea of magic and aliens, they would have fought you.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because humans will fight to choose their own governance.” Natasha leaned back, stretching her legs out before her. “We’ve gotten quite fond of picking our leadership.”

“So humans prefer a leader they like?” Loki asked. “But how do they know if a leader is good or not?”

“How do they know with kings?” Natasha raised an eyebrow. “With a king or a tyrant, you don’t get a choice. Our current president was a governor, where he ruled a smaller area. Many of our world leaders start in positions of low power and do those well before moving up to higher and higher levels.”

Loki sat back and stretched his legs in front of him. Natasha hid a smile at the language his body was giving her - he was relating to her, opening up to her. It wasn’t conscious on his part. He’d probably be horrified he was telling her so much nonverbally. “Even if a superior being came and offered to rule and protect them benevolently? They’d still have a problem with him?”

His sincerity and forthright confusion was most cute, and Natasha had to bite back a laugh. Yes, teaching him about human customs was the best idea she’d had in a while.

She could almost forget he’d taken Phil from them. Of course, he hadn’t _really_ taken him either. The blame for that she was going to lay at Fury’s feet.

“First, you assume that humans _want_ to be ruled by a superior being. We don’t. You’re looking _down_ at us, but think about it if someone invaded Asgard with only the best of intentions. They were superior to you and wanted to benevolently rule you.” Natasha quirked an eyebrow. “How well would your people take that?”

Loki considered her for a long moment of silence. “Not well.” His admission was grudging at best.

“Then your people and mine are not that different.” Natasha glanced at her watch and rose. “Have a good evening, Loki.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Natasha reach a compromise.

Thor came to see him once a week, to eat a meal and attempt to talk to him. For the last twelve weeks, Loki had been ignoring his efforts. Thor wanted the familial connection with Loki again, to have back his adoring little brother. The blond oaf didn’t understand that he’d never have his dark little shadow again. The little brother had realized he was second to his big brother and the adoration had turned to bitterness.

Today, however, Loki needed something from Thor. He needed some perspective. “Why do you love these mortals so much, _brother_?”

On the other side of the glass, Thor lowered his fork, his blond brows rising in surprise at being spoken to. Normally, they ate in silence. Loki knew that the sudden question would throw him off, and hopefully he’d get a true answer from his adoptive kin. “I find them fascinating. They are so frail and weak and need my protection. They live such short lives, yet live them much like you or I do.”

“So you enjoy protecting them.” Loki probed a bit deeper, rolling his brother’s answer in his head. It was a very Thor answer, wrapped up in strength and weakness - oh, and mind-numbingly boring.

“Yes.” Thor smiled broadly. “It is very rewarding to give my protection to them.”

“And how did this come about?” Loki asked. He found himself curious; he’d arranged things so that his brother wouldn’t come back to Asgard, yet he didn’t know exactly what had brought about the rapid conversion of Thor into a lover of Midgardians.

Thor aborted another forkful of mashed potatoes, out and out abandoning it on the side of his plate. Folding his hands together, he stared hard at Loki; just when the adopted jotun thought that Thor would refuse to answer, his brother sighed. “When you cast me into fear and doubt, the mortals accepted me. They made room for me in their world, and they would have allowed me succor there.”

“So they fed you and were nice to you.” Loki took a bite of his mashed potatoes, secretly wishing he had more. His next few bites would be green bean, to draw out the moment when his potatoes were gone. Most food on Midgard was sickly sweet but he’d found their vegetables quite good. “How magnanimous of you.” He leaned forward. “You forget, brother, I know: Selvig told me that he made you promise to leave Jane in the morning, to abandon her for her own sake. That doesn’t seem very accepting to me.”

“Selvig’s heart was in the right place.” Thor’s stubbornness could be legendary and Loki sighed inwardly as he saw it in evidence now. His brother had decided that he’d been accepted with open arms and he would twist events around in his head to make it happen. “And in the morning, he had changed his mind.”

 _No, he hadn’t._ Selvig had been ready to insist Thor leave as promised when the Destroyer had arrived and it had all come to an end regardless. _Ah, my bad timing_ , Loki mused sadly. He wished he’d waited just a little longer, just so that Thor would _know_ that he’d been on the verge of rejection.

“So a bit of love and softness from a mortal, followed by a drunken heart-to-heart with another, and you are their mighty protector.” Loki shook his head. “Do you know how pathetic that is?”

Thor glared at Loki. “I am not the one in the mortal’s cell. I am not the one our father would have killed, had our mother not intervened. I do not think you understand the word ‘pathetic’, brother.”

“I think that I tried for that which I wanted,” Loki spat, glad that his brother was paying spite with spite. This was familiar currency to jotun prince. “I saw an open throne on a world that needed a firmer hand and I reached to claim it.”

“You are full of bitterness.” Thor rose, picking up his plate. “I had hoped that in time you would come to see that your hate has blinded you to the beauty here.”

Loki rose as well, moving to the front of the glass. “Can you still find beauty when you bury Jane Foster? Can you feel joy knowing that she will never bear you a son? Will the world still seem so lovely and bright when your eyes are dimmed with grief?”

Thor stopped before the door. “I will cherish the memories I make with her.” He turned back to Loki. “I will always have her love, and her heart, and that will be enough. All you will have is a cell unless you change your ways, brother.”

“I will escape, Odinson.” Loki knew he would. It was a matter of time before he outwitted these mortals.

“And gain what? No one will speak of you when you’re gone. No one will care about you, beyond that they care you don’t hurt them or one they love.” The blond godling curled his lip. “You think this makes you powerful, yet all it makes you is pathetic.” He turned and stormed away, leaving Loki alone.

 

* * *

 

Loki would never admit it but it was the isolation that got to him. The months without the touch of another living creature affected even him. He endured it as best he could, ignoring the faint panic that came whenever Thor or the mortal woman left him alone. The toys he’d been given staved off the boredom for a while but gradually he consented to read even the books. He noticed that if he put them in the slot through which they passed items to him, the woman would bring more.

“Here,” she said one day, sitting down and working a thick book through the slot. Loki moved to help her, finding that he reached for her fingers with his own, just to feel something other than glass and books and cloth. But her slim digits pulled away, denying him.

“ _War and Peace_?” he read off the cover, wondering if she’d passed him a boring book on morality.

“It’s one of my favorites. I thought you might enjoy it.” She gave him a smile and Loki found himself smiling in return - and meaning it. He hadn’t smiled like that since he’d learned why Thor was the favored son. “We can talk about, afterwards.”

“I doubt it.” Loki did what he could to distance himself from the warm feeling she’d generated in him. Mother had often done the same thing: found a book she thought he’d enjoy. She would wait impatiently for him to read it and then they’d talk about it for hours. If there had been spells in its covers, they would do them together, laughing and giggling and playing games with their illusions.

“What was that look for?” Natasha’s expression was friendly yet curious, and Loki realized he’d been thinking of Mother.

Loki wanted to tell her. He wanted to talk to someone about Mother, and her death. He would never lower himself to speak of his feelings to a mortal. He opened his mouth and shocked even himself when he said, “My mother would do this.”

“Give you books?” Natasha sat in her chair, looking interested.

“Yes.” Loki ran his fingers over the leather binding and flipped open the cover. There was an inscription on it and he read aloud. “ _Tasha - I hear Russians like this short story. Next time you’re on a long surveillance sting, you’ll have something to read to Barton._ ” Touched that she would loan him a gift, he looked up, his mouth open to say something sharp to relieve the sweetness he felt.

The look in her eyes stopped him. “Can I have that back, please?” She put a hand out, her eyes cool and her expression guarded. “I grabbed the wrong copy.”

Pleasure turned to irritation. Loki debated tearing the book apart but he didn’t want her visits to stop. “I’ll take good care of it,” he promised, closing his fingers more tightly over the book. His mother had written messages for him in books, at times. “Who gave this to you? A lover?”

“A friend… almost a lover.” She took a deep breath. “You can hold onto it. He turned out to be an asshole.” Visibly shaking off her sadness, she asked, “What are you going to teach me today?”

Loki paused, thinking. “I thought some Asgardian culture.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed slightly as she adopted a knowing smile. “Tired of talking about Midgard culture?” she asked, her tone light and almost teasing.

“Yes. I want to show that we’re superior to your people in all ways.” Loki cleared his throat and said, “We’ll start with a bit of history…”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The relationship changes for the worse.
> 
> TW: for touch-starvation and non-black/white morality by "good guys".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone over on FF.net where I'm coposting seemed bothered by this chapter, so I thought a warning was in order. Please understand that while I enjoy some stories being black and white, for the most part, I like more complex layers of morality than that. I'm not trying to discourage anyone from reading my series (yes, I'm writing the sequel) but I felt it fair to say something to those who require their heroes to be absolute heroes.
> 
> This is also the last chapter of what I was thinking of as set-up for the whole story. Things get interesting after this chapter and the plot takes off so I really hope people stick around!

“I’m so impressed with you. You don’t even know.” Stark leaned against the edge of his desk, his expression one of admiration. “I thought I was impressed when you wiped the floor with Happy. Turns out, not even close to the feelings you’re inspiring now.”

“Knock it off, Stark. It’s just my job.” Natasha looked away from the excited inventor to the image of Loki on the screen. The time-date stamp showed it was from this afternoon, just after she left Loki. He was staring forlornly at the door, his expression lonely.

It was an intimate picture, and it made her uncomfortable.

“Then you are _good_ at your job. You have a god pining for you. It’s only been six months. I am in awe of you.” Stark shook his head. “I feel like I should applaud in your presence. You are _truly_ a piece of work.”

“It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” Steve had been silent until now, his expression subdued. He’d been in a bad mood since his return to Avengers Tower without Barnes.

Stark raised an eyebrow at the statement. “That she’s non-violently getting a god to reform? I thought you’d love that.”

“It feels like she’s befriending him for nefarious purposes.” Steve looked at her, his eyes sad and disapproving.

Natasha made sure he saw nothing in her eyes, even if part of her agreed with him. “A friend is a friend. Don’t worry, Steve, I know what I’m doing.”

She thought she had known before seeing the picture of Loki looking like a puppy left in the cold. _No, use the right words. He looks like someone who’s been denied basic human contact for months._ She remembered children in the Red Room looking like that too.

She remembered days when she looked like that, too.

Natasha immediately changed her mind on her game plan. “I need access to his cage. The interior.”

Stark held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, I think you’re good but you’re not _that_ good.” Natasha threw him an annoyed look. “It’s the Asgardian Mussolini, not your average villain with delusions of grandeur. I’m pretty sure that his delusions of grandeur are closer to realities of grandeur. Besides, opening the cell leaves us susceptible to use of his illusions.”

“Stark’s right.” Steve didn’t appear to be in pain after openly agreeing with Stark, though Natasha wasn’t sure how he wasn’t. “You’ve done well but this is just too dangerous. Even if he doesn’t escape, he can still kill you.”

“Do you guys want this to go to the next level or not?” She looked from one man to the other, glad Thor wasn’t in the room to muddle the issue with his familiar ties to the target. “Because the next level involves physical contact. For that, we need to have a certain amount of trust in him.”

Stark raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do you really trust that he won’t snap your neck like uncooked spaghetti the first chance he gets?”

“That look tells me he won’t. We’re breaking him down, slowly.” Natasha looked at Steve to see if he agreed but the super soldier stared at the monitor. “Steve?”

“I feel like we’re taking his free will away. I feel like we’re the same people who took Bucky. Who took you, Natasha.” Steve looked troubled.

“You mean like how Loki took Barton and unmade him.” Natasha couldn’t help but point that out. “Don’t you think he should get a taste of his own medicine?”

“This isn’t even his medicine, guys.” Stark spread his hands wide. “This isn’t what was done by Loki to Hawkeye. This isn’t even what was done to the Winter Soldier or Natasha. This is us being _way_ nicer to this guy than he deserves. He almost killed Phil. He stole people’s free will. He invaded New York and almost got _me_ killed, which is clearly the greatest of his crimes. Instead of dragging him into the World Court, we’re feeding him, housing him, and entertaining him. So no, I don’t feel like the guys who have screwed with various people, because there is _no comparison_.”

In the silence after Stark’s statement, Steve left the room. “He just needs to come to terms with it, in his own mind,” Natasha said.

“I know.” Stark sighed through his nose. “He’s overly sensitive to it right now, I think.” He looked at her. “Don’t think my words mean I’m okay with this. But!” He held up a finger to stop her coming comment. “It’s your choice. Your body, your life, your death. I’ll have JARVIS watching extra-closely. I don’t think Loki can use his illusions on him.”

“Thank you.” Natasha had been a little worried about that, though the room containing the cell locked as well.

“Don’t thank me. He might just kill you.” For once, he was utterly serious as he made his dire statement.

 

* * *

 

“What is that?” Loki had sat up when she entered the room, eyeing the item in her hand. Her copy of _War and Peace_ rested across his lap.

Natasha glanced at the book, feeling conflicted about it - both the godling handling something so personal to her and the man who given it to her. “This,” she said as she stepped forward and pressed her hand to the lock, “is a chess board.”

“Like in the book.” Loki rose as the door opened; Natasha ignored the uneasy feeling as he looked at the door a little too intently. Instead, she entered and set down the low chess table on the floor.

“I thought you might want to learn to play,” Natasha said as she sat down cross-legged at White’s position. Loki stared at her for a moment. Natasha thought he might refuse or attack her. His expression was distant and cool as he sat down across from her. He didn’t say anything and she took his silence as assent.

“Each of these pieces has a different name and movement.” Natasha opened the box of pieces and pulled out the black royalty. “King. Queen.” Leaning forward, she set the carved wood piece in place - and Loki grabbed her right hand.

“What is your game?” he hissed at her, his eyes narrowed.

Natasha had known that he might lash out or be suspicious, so she had a ready answer. “Chess.”

His fingers were warm around her hand; though he held her gently, she could feel the terrible strength in his body. He could crush her fingers as easily as she smashed a ripe peach. “Why are you in here?”

“Because I thought you might like chess. Because I like chess, and Clint is gone. Because Stark won’t play a game he might lose.” She raised an eyebrow. “Is this a problem?”

His fingers tightened for a moment before he released her hand. “Fine. Teach me.”

Natasha set up the pieces and explained their moves. Loki listened intently, his expression cool and distant. They’d actually gotten through a few moves before Loki asked, “You used to play this with Agent Barton?”

Natasha felt herself stiffen. “Yes.”

“Yet you never read that book to him.” Loki’s green eyes glittered with malignance. “Why?”

“Just never came up.” Natasha tried to put the right amount of carelessness into the answer to be believed.

“Where did he go?”

Too late, she saw she’d trapped herself. “Where did who go?”

“Barton. Where did he go?” The godling watched her closely.

“He left.” Natasha’s chest felt tight. She heard her Red Room instructor saying, “ _Everyone has weak spots.”_ Barton was hers and Loki knew it.

“For HYDRA?” Loki’s expression was too innocent as she locked eyes with him.

Natasha tried to swallow. “He told you?”

“Of course he did. He told me _everything_.” Loki leaned over the board, so close she smelled the soap he’d used that morning. “Which is why I took such pleasure when I shoved the sceptre into _his_ back-”

Natasha shoved the chess table against him. The lip caught him in the knees but he was tough enough that he just laughed at her display. Shaking with anger, she rose and went to the door, opening the cell. He was still laughing when she left the room.

 

* * *

 

The sense of righteous justification from Steve was almost intolerable but worse was Tony’s glum face and whining. At least Steve had left town following another clue to his long-lost friend. Stark just hung around making smart-ass comments about Loki. Natasha ignored him. She had no plans to return to the demi-god - he could rot for all she cared. Phil might have been an asshole but he was _their_ asshole. No one got to talk about murdering him with such callousness.

“It did answer a question I had.” Tony’s remark came out of the blue one day. He’d wandered up to her while she was trying to do some paperwork that came with her new position as an Avenger.

“What?” she said, her voice sharp.

“Why Loki killed Coulson. Or tried to.” Tony sat down across from her desk. “Why he didn’t just take him over. Why he stabbed him. It was personal but it wasn’t just meant for all of us. It was meant for you.”

“It was meant for everyone.” Natasha _was not_ having his conversation.

Tony looked bemused. “Oh, I think that Coulson was killed - almost - because you irritated Loki.”

Natasha glared at him. “Thank you for that guilt.”

“Not your fault, that’s all on Loki. So when Coulson coming around to admit he’s alive? Fury given you an idea on that timeline?” Stark’s challenge annoyed her worse and the woman stared daggers at him. “So, what was Coulson to you, really?”

“That’s none of your business,” Natasha growled, crossing her arms and holding her ground.

“A lover?” Tony asked. “I have to say, I can’t see the appeal-”

“Not a lover.” The words carried a soft twinge of pain with them still.

“So what did Barton tell Loki that made Coulson someone he should _take_ from you?” Stark was talking with his hands again, waving them around as words tumbled from his lips. “What was it about Coulson that made killing him a more attractive option than corrupting him? Was it because he’d already corrupted Barton?”

“Stop asking. I’m not talking about this.” Natasha pushed past him, scowling, only to nearly plow into Thor’s broad chest as she tried to leave the room.

The godling stopped just outside the doorway. “Natasha,” he said in that deep, sexy voice, “I have need to talk to you.”

“You’re talking,” she replied briskly as she slipped out into the hallway.

Thor followed her. “I need you to return to my brother.”

She turned to glare at him. Had all the men in the tower lost their minds? “No.”

Thor ducked in front of her, moving with surprising speed for his size. “Please. He refuses food and drink, and has since you left him.”

“Tough.” Natasha dodged around him and kept walking. “I don’t owe him anything.”

“I agree.” Thor followed her closely, speaking intently. “Natasha, I have seen the changes you have wrought in him, and I am loathe to see them cease. Yes, he was harsh in his words. Yes, he was rude. You were doing good work.”

“I don’t care.” Natasha turned to face him. “So what if I was?”

Thor seemed to deflate before her eyes. “I want my brother back. I hoped you would show him the way.”  
“I’m not a therapist. I was working to make your brother pliant and cooperative. If that’s really how you want him to be, I’m sure Bruce can recommend Zoloft for Asgardians.” Natasha stalked away from the big man and this time, he left her alone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye makes his move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: graphic depictions of violence in his chapter in particular

Loki regretted his words. Yes, scoring a personal hit on that woman had been satisfying, but not _as_ satisfying as he’d imagined it would be. Worse, she hadn’t come back. No one had come back but the guards who delivered the food and Thor. The former didn’t speak to him and the latter was insufferable.

His stomach hadn’t growled today. That was good. It meant he was getting past the painful parts and starting to proceed to the point he’d fade away. Loki hoped it would end in the Odinsleep. He wanted the escape into endless dreams. Whether he could achieve the Odinsleep was in question but he wanted to try. The lack of food and water shouldn't kill him; the humans would revive him if the situation got that dire.

He eyed the woman’s book on the other side of the door. He now wished he hadn’t shoved it out of the slot in a petulant moment. It had been far more interesting to read than any of the other mortal books.

 _No, you do not need the distraction_ , he told himself, closing his eyes and putting his arm over them to completely block the light. In the recesses of his own mind, he went back over the events of the last few months yet again.

_“You lack conviction.”_

The mortal had said it as a distraction. That’s all it was meant to be. Yet Loki felt as though it was more than just a distraction.

Had he lacked conviction? Had he not wanted the Midgard throne?

Why would he? Why would anyone? Thor was enamored of the short-lived race but they had so little to offer as a people. The Chitauri had wanted the Tesseract, not Earth.

Loki’s brow furrowed as he considered that. The Chitauri had lusted for the Tesseract, yet hadn’t it been The Other’s idea to invade Earth with an army? Loki had not thought of that until the Other said it, and once said, it had seemed a glorious dream. He had seen himself King of a lowly people, yet looking back on that desire, it seemed so pointless. Why would he want to rule over ants? There were better ways to spite his brother.

_“You lack conviction.”_

In the privacy of his arm, Loki grimaced. The man had been _right_! How had he and that woman seen what Loki himself could not? What gift of insight could those lowly mortals have that he lacked?

Once again, he found himself wondering why he was doomed to fail before lesser creatures. Thor, the Black Widow, the Coulson: all of them were _beneath_ him, yet he’d faltered and failed before each of them. _How was this possible!_

A low rumble filled the room and Loki sat up, vaguely alarmed. Cracks appeared in the concrete walls around him as crumbles of mortar clattered around the room. Loki stood and cautiously stepped to the glass, looking up at the ceiling. Despite the fissures that now spidered across the top of the room, it seemed to be holding.

A vent high in the far wall popped open, kicked out by a black boot. Loki backed to the far wall as Clint Barton emerged from the narrow tunnel, grinning at him. “Loki, hi. I know, this is kinda awkward, just like anytime a boss meets a disgruntled employee after the employment is over. Except you have the added bonus of knowing that you brainwashed me and basically enslaved me.”

Loki didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything good enough to say. The Asgardian reached for his magic but in his weakened state, he had no ability to control it. He was grateful that he was in here; Stark’s prison had become a sanctuary.

Barton raised his bow, a blunt-tipped arrowhead tipping the shaft. Loki flinched as the arrowhead slammed into the glass and stuck; the moment it was secure, a high-pitched whine started to fill his prison. After only a few seconds, it was intolerable; Loki clamped his hands over his ears but it felt like the noise had invaded every pore of his body.

The glass shattered just before he thought his skull might. The godling ducked the glass before turning to face Barton-

The arrow caught him in the left eye: a perfect shot. Loki shrieked with pain as the sharp head invaded his eye socket; god or not, the pain was immense. He clamped a hand over the shaft only to have the slightest movement send more blasts of pain into his nerves.

“He shoots, he scores!” Barton had raised his arms in victory. When Loki opened his other eye, he could see the shaft sticking out from his head.

“Oh, quit bitching. It’s not that bad.” Barton marched to his side and grabbed him by the back of his collar. Loki swung at him, only to have his inadequate blow easily sidestepped. He was weakened not just by his wound but by his attempts to emulate Odin’s eternal slumber. The slightest motion of his body made his wound throb madly and Loki held himself as still as possible.

Barton scruffed him again and pushed him into motion. “As I see it, I’m doing you a favor. Now you have something in common with the AllDaddy.”

The godling stumbled forward, his shock receding. The pain had dropped from paralyzing to merely blinding, and he still didn’t have much fight. It was too much effort to stop the soft wail in the back of his throat. Barton shoved him closer to the door. “Quit whining, it’s just your eye. HYDRA’s going to give you another one, anyway.”

 

* * *

 

“How the fuck!” Tony didn’t resort to such vulgar words often but this was a special case.

Natasha had thought she’d buried all of the pain of Clint’s betrayal. She’d only half-buried it, and like a corpse in a shallow grave, it was coming to light. She wanted to weep as she watched Barton disappear off the cameras with Loki for the fifth time. She told herself that she was studying the tape to understand what had happened. Banner paused it a good picture of Loki’s eye. The doctor frowned as he peered closely at the damage.

Not even Tony had figured out what had happened to JARVIS - to the copy of JARVIS left at the tower, anyway. When the copy of JARVIS in the suit had uploaded to the tower’s systems, it had immediately crashed. Tony and a handful of former SHIELD techs were currently scrambling to undo whatever Clint had done to the computer.

“They set us up.” Steve was as angry as she’d ever seen him. He was also right. The sudden emergency in Johannesburg had been a raucous carnival, with the officials pleasantly bewildered that the Avengers had shown up to their celebration.

“He will _pay_ for this.” Thor stared at the image of his wounded sibling, his face crimson with the force of his rage. “I will tear his fingers from their palms!”

“Let’s find him, then come up with the creative torture solutions.” Stark dragged his hands through his hair, his eyes wide. “What the fuck did they do to JARVIS?”

His whining about his computer was getting on her nerves. Natasha refrained herself from snapping at him, barely. “We have bigger problems,” she said, only to have Stark cut her off.

“No, how they disabled my system is one of the big problems, if not the biggest.” He glared at her. “I need JARVIS for the Iron Man suit, too. If they can remotely disable my suit, while I’m in it, I think that’s a pretty big fucking deal, don’t you?”

“Of course it is,” Natasha said, meeting his angry gaze. “But tell me it’s worse than HYDRA having Loki in their possession.”

He deflated a touch at that. “They’re both bad.”

“Sir?” A technician approached him with a hesitant smile. “We’ve found their access port.”

Stark relaxed a touch. “Not remote?”

“No, sir.” The young woman beamed eagerly. “They had a hard line connection to your systems. Probably there from day one.”

The relief was instantly gone. “Sonovabitch. HYDRA hacked me?”

The woman became somber too. “Only by completely bypassing your firewall. Sir, this was probably installed the day your wiring was hooked up.”

Tony rubbed his hands through his hair again. “I didn’t have my wiring installed by SHIELD.” He sighed. “Kill that line, if you haven’t already. Then I think we need to format and restart. Then have Pepper find out which company handled the wiring and threaten to sue them unless they cooperate with an investigation.”

“We need to save the camera footage,” Natasha said quickly.

Tony gave her a long-suffering look. “I do happen to know a thing or two about computers.” She inclined her head in acknowledgement of having stated the obvious. “I’ll back up the data, wipe the systems and reload JARVIS.”

“How long will that take?” Steve asked.

“A day, maybe two.”

Banner nodded. “Get to work on it. Natasha, Thor, and I will work on finding HYDRA.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan is returned to his comrades in HYDRA.

“Did you have to shoot him in the eye?” Jerome McCulloch peered at Loki’s prone form with disgust. The first thing McCulloch had done when Hawkeye loaded him on the helicopter was pump the godling full of sedatives.

“Well, I sleep better now,” Barton chuckled, though only he got the joke.

“You’ve made a mess of his ocular orbit.” McCulloch sighed and peered into the wound again. “And you do realize you could have killed him.”

“Nah. I’m a better shot than that.” Barton smirked as he pulled an apple out of his pouch. Shining it on his shirt, he took a smug bite. “I hit him at an angle with a fairly blunt arrowhead. Blunt being relative when dealing with eyeballs, of course.”

“Can you install the hardware?” John Garrett had ignored their bickering, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.

“Yes, I . . .” McCulloch peered more deeply and said, “Well, hell. Damn aliens.”

“What?” Garrett snapped.

“He’s regenerating the damage. Slowly enough that I can install the hardware, but I think his body will reject the devices.” McCulloch peered at Garrett. “The camera, the receiver and transmitter will be expelled by his healing, or the process will render our devices unusable.”

Garrett’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You guaranteed me this would work.”

“No, I said that it _should_ work.” The Scotsman met Garrett’s eyes without fear. He reached out and put a hand on Loki’s slowly rising and falling chest. “You should understand - he’s got enough sedatives in him to knock out a rhino on a sugar high, and I’m not entirely sure he’s completely out of it.”

The noisy crunch of another bite of apple filled the room. “Loki’s dangerous. You should just let me put an arrow into his other eye. Without a blunt head shot at an angle.” Barton’s arrogance and smile had faded into professional assessment.

“Dangerous but potentially useful.” Garrett moved to the computer in the hastily erected medical bay and typed in a few commands. An image of a technical diagram of a strange-looking chair appeared on the screen and he turned it toward McCulloch. “What about something like this? Do you think it would work on an Asgardian?”

McCulloch leaned in, peering at the image for a moment. “Fuck if I know. I wasn’t involved in the Winter Soldier project,” he said tersely, straightening. “Personally I feel that Loki is a little shit who has a grudge against the Avengers and SHIELD. We should just use that.”

“I’m pretty sure Barton shot that option to hell, literally.” Garrett sighed. “Well, we have nothing to lose. He goes in the chair.”

“Can we make him my little bitch?” Barton asked quickly.

“You got to shoot him in the eye. I think you’ve done enough.” Garrett gave the archer a glare before glancing at the silent man in the room. “Ward’ll be his handler.” Grant Ward nodded once in quiet confirmation.

There was a moment of silence and suddenly Garrett said, “Guys, we need more diversity in this group. Look at all the sausages in the room! Man, we need some eye candy. Next agent we recruit has to be a hot chick.”

“Any chance we can grab Romanov?” McCulloch asked with a leer.

“I’m the only one who gets to grab her.” Barton’s words were edged with warning and malice.

“Oo, someone has a crush.” McCulloch grinned nastily at the archer.

“Way to display your heart on your sleeve,” Ward added.

Garrett raised an eyebrow at his loyal follower and said, “Skye.” Ward’s lips set in a firm line and a blush tinged his cheekbones, but he didn’t rebut the comment. “And no one’s going after the Black Widow. Hawkeye, you had years to bring her around and you didn’t. You had your shot. It’s done, let her go.” He looked at the archer, who didn’t look convinced. “I mean, her name should tell us why we shouldn’t bother, right? She’ll kill you on the spot for being HYDRA.”

“I can get close to her and grab her,” Barton insisted.

“I know you can. It’s what happens after you grab her that I’m worried about.” Garrett raised his hands in appeasement. “Okay, I’ll make a deal with you. You give me a year or so to build up some replacements for you, and I’ll let you take your shot. I just can’t afford to lose you right now.” He put an arm around Barton’s shoulders, his smile friendly. “Deal?”

“Fine.” Barton shoved Garrett’s arm off of shoulders. “But no one else gets to try for her first.”

“No problem, man. We can all respect that.” Garrett agreed easily and kept the smile on his face until Barton was out of the room. “Man, he needs to get _laid_.”

“Think he’s going to be a problem?” Ward asked.

Garrett made a ‘duh’ face. “Oh, hell yes. But for now he’s more useful than problematic.” He glanced back at McCulloch. “Fix up our new friend.”

“He should have a nickname. It should be Green Goat.” McCulloch glanced up when no one replied to find the two men in the room staring at him in confusion. “Because he wears green, and the… you-know.” He gestured with his hands, calling to mind the horns that Loki’s helmet bore.

“Let’s work on that. I think the only person who’d be afraid of that is a toddler.” Garrett shook his head. “A sheltered toddler. For now, you worry about reprogramming him; bring his new history to me when you have it done. I’ll worry about his codename.”

 

* * *

 

He woke up slowly and painfully. The light was bright to the point of painfulness and he gratefully closed his eyes. After a moment, he slung an arm over his face to further block out the lights. It was only after he was comfortable again that he thought to ask, _Where am I? What happened to me?_

He had vague memories of being captured and held by Stark, of the Black Widow interrogating him. Logan shifted on the bed and sat up, taking another attempt to see the room. It was his room. He recognized it visually after studying it but it felt alien. The computer on the desk was smaller than he remembered; the bed was softer than felt right. He wore only his boxer shorts, his normal sleeping attire. Everything _looked_ as it should, but nothing felt familiar.

A tap at his door had him reaching for his gun. Once again, the action seemed correct but felt wrong. “Who’s there?” he called.

“It’s John. I wanted to check on you.” There was a momentary pause. “Can I come in?”

John Garrett, his friend and head of their HYDRA cell. The facts and details about John were there but they felt like pure data not personal knowledge. He checked the gun, making sure it was loaded and the safety off before hiding it under the blankets. “Yes.”

He normally kept his door locked but John entered without a key. Logan ran his hands through his short hair, eyeing the other man warily. John noted his discomfort and took a seat at the table, moving slowly and keeping his hands in sight. “Hey, Logan, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” He grimaced as once again, the words felt wrong and right. “What happened?”

“Coulson. He and his team got ahold of you and messed with your brain.” John turned his finger in circles around his temple as he spoke. “They dumped you with Stark and Romanov when they couldn’t finish the job and let them work on turning your brain into spaghetti.”

It made sense. It matched his memories - most of them. He didn’t think that Romanov would play chess with him as an interrogation procedure. “How’d I get out?” Logan asked, feeling anger and dread in equal measure. Since HYDRA's revelation, his greatest fear - any of their greatest fears - was being back in the hands of SHIELD scientists.

“You didn’t. We staged an attack, using an old in we had to Stark’s tower and liberal use of Deathlok.” It was implied in John’s words that they’d burned that in, and Logan bit back a grimace. He hated that they’d had to give away an advantage just to recover him.

Still, they had recovered him, and that deserved a response. “Thank you.” Logan slipped his hands under the blanket and thumbed off the safety.

John saw the motion but there was no anger or condemnation in his eyes. They had all been there before - forced to doubt someone they trusted and the process of returning to that place of trust. “You’d do it for us, Logan. You need anything?”

Logan considered, rubbing his hands through his hair again. “I need a shower. I’m kinda hungry, too.”

“Clean up. I’ll make you something - steak and sweet potato?” It was Logan’s favorite food, sans apple pie. John didn’t often offer to cook so it made his statement particularly kind.

Still, Logan shook his head, a wry smile curling his lips. “I’m adverse to eating beef leather and blackened sweet potatoes.”

“You ass,” John laughed at him. “Offer to do a nice thing and get made fun of. I’ll remember this.”

The sense of camaraderie was alien and yet so delightful. It felt like something he’d longed for all his life - to belong to a group and truly be part of it, instead of his brother’s dark shadow. Thomas had always been the star athlete, the quarterback, the one everyone loved. Logan had always wanted to be him until he’d found HYDRA. They’d given a place to belong, and even command of his own team. They’d given him a purpose: to bring order to the world.

“You okay? You kinda zoned out there.” John’s gentle words brought Logan’s attention back to the room.

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hair again. Not only did he need another washing but it felt wrong – too short. “Stark and his goons really messed me up.”

“You’re off missions until you feel better.” John held up a hand at Logan’s protest. “I know, I know. It’s for everyone’s good.”

“Yes, of course.” Logan wished he felt more normal; silently, he cursed the remnants of SHIELD.

John nodded as he rose to his feet. “You’re still going to eat after the shower, right? I think a meal would do you good.”

Logan managed a weak smile. “Yes. I’ll cook something.”

“Good. Call anyone if you need something.” The older man waved his thumb at the door. “Grant’s right next door.” When Logan nodded, John left him alone.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan adjusts after his brainwashing. Phil admits he needs help.

It took a week for things to feel right again. Everything in his life had been skewed: his taste in food, music, literature, and even his ability to shave with his preferred straight razor. The greatest loss was his fighting reflexes. Grant had stomped him several times in the gym despite Logan’s superior skills. The HYDRA super-serum that had been administered to him in his youth didn’t actually compensate enough when someone had forgotten how to use their body. Every time that Logan hit the floor, he silently cursed Coulson.

The morning that he woke up and didn’t wonder where he was, Logan counted it a victory. Things only got better from there: listening to The Killdares felt calming instead of unnerving in its alienness. Breakfast - bacon, pancakes, and eggs – smelled good instead of weird. And for the first time, the sight of Clint Barton didn’t fill him with a murderous rage. Instead, there was a mild sense of dislike; he and Barton had never gotten along but they were on the same team and that came first.

This morning was the first time his easy banter with his team over food came with simplicity and Logan slowly relaxed even more. He felt the others grow more at ease as they saw his decrease in tension. He considered asking John to be put back on missions but decided against it. Garrett liked to make his own decisions without being pushed to it. Logan resolved to wait patiently.

Fate intervened; that afternoon, Garrett’s voice came over the loudspeakers. “Everyone, assemble in the conference room. Be ready to play.” Logan wasn’t sure that meant him but he dashed to his room anyway and grabbed his gear. His body armor went on over his green t-shirt first; he was tougher than most but he still took the extra protection. The two bandoliers crossed over his chest gave him extra ammo and contained a few grenades behind his back. A tactical belt with a number of gadgets rested on his hips, while he added a knife to the holster in his boot. Armed and armored, he hurried to the room in question.

When he entered, Barton gave him a sour look but said nothing. John glanced at him but didn’t tell him to leave. Logan took his place against the wall and waited for everyone to arrive. Grant joined him with a small smile, geared similarly to Logan. McCulloch was last, as usual, but he had the most gear. His duffle bags of medical gear were huge and unwieldy, and the medic was huffing heavily as he joined them.

 “We have a situation.” John tapped a computer screen and showed a map of the Southern Indian Ocean. “Fifteen minutes ago, an earthquake off of Pulau Rote. There’s an underground HYDRA base located under nearby Rai Dana.” Another tap brought the uninhabited island onto the screen in detail. “The entrance is here, and in another ten minutes will be under water, at which point the base will start to flood due to damage from the earthquake. We are currently the closest HYDRA team with the resources to aid them.

 “Make no mistake. We are an hour from them.” John glanced at each of them to be sure they had done the math and understood. “This is not a rescue mission. We are to recover HYDRA intel and equipment that the crew was unable to take with them. We have a thirty minute window before the Avengers will be in the area, providing relief to the locals. There also might be aftershocks but the Bus should be able to ride them out. Coulson and his crew might show up as well. Questions?”

 “Who’s going in the water?” Grant asked.

“You and Logan. I’ll remain on the Bus in case we have to take to the air to avoid secondary waves. McCulloch will remain on the Bus to provide medical care _if_ we find a survivor. Clint is our lookout for the Avengers or Coulson.” John glanced around the room to confirm everyone knew their place. “Let’s go.”

Their flight passed over islands already affected by the disaster. Without being asked, Grant pulled up an external view of the ocean under the Bus on the main screen. Even well above the local land masses, the devastation was apparent.

“Poor guys.” Grant muttered the words softly enough that only Logan could hear.

“They need someone to protect them. Like HYDRA.” Logan felt for them; they were at the mercy of their poverty and nature.

“If Rogers hadn’t screwed Project Insight, we could be saving them right now.” Barton slipped up behind the men, scowling. “At least I don’t have to pretend to suck up to that cock now.”

“I thought you liked him,” McCulloch said, glancing up from an embalming journal he was reading. He seemed very uninterested in rendering medicinal aid for a health professional. Of course, Logan wasn’t sure what _kind_ of medical training he’d had.

“I had to pretend to be his buddy but he’s so annoying.” Clint rolled his eyes. “He’s always asking about pop culture references. You couldn’t tell a joke around him.”

“That’s the hard part of any undercover mission,” Grant said softly. “Dealing with the people you’re undercover with.”

Something in his words made Logan glance up at his co-worker. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes and Logan resisted the urge to comfort him. It seemed the natural thing to do, something that his brother would do to a teammate who seemed down. But this wasn’t the local football team; they were all professional operatives and none of them tolerated weakness, in themselves least of all.

“We’re here.” John’s announcement brought relief to the tersely waiting men. Logan and Grant swapped their normal gear for the aquatic armor and weapons, as well as air tanks. Once Garrett had set the plane down on the water, the two men dropped into the roiling waves.

The waters were still high when they dropped into the ocean. It was a twenty-foot dive to the door, which had once been on the shoreline. The door, once camouflaged by sand and rocks, now had been scoured of its passive defenses, and the metal was easily spotted. It was easy for Grant to screw back the lock on the door but it took both men’s strength to get it open.

The opening immediately sent a gush of floating objects past the two men: office supplies, scientific equipment, computers, and bodies. Grant and Logan left it to the three men above to sort through what was floating up to them.

Logan went first, his underwater rifle held in a tight grip. A few strong kicks propelled him down the stairs and through the first room to the elevator. He forced the doors, releasing another mass of objects. The two men swam down one level to the first floor, which was living areas.

They searched the first floor quickly. Most of the people had evacuated; the bodies they’d found had been the last ones out, those who had failed to make it before the tsunami. These rooms were mostly empty and had little of strategic value.

The next floor was the bulk of the monitoring equipment that HYDRA used to keep an eye on affairs in this portion of the Indian Ocean. They searched this floor quickly, too, but this time they yanked hard drives out of the computers. The technicians were supposed to take backups with them, but no one expected an egghead to remember that when the fury of the Indian Ocean was bearing down on them.

The hard drives were collected into a bag affixed with a self-inflating balloon. Grant started the chemical process that filled the inflatable and released it in the elevator shaft.

The last level was the crucial floor and they had reserved the most time for it. Weapons were stored here, as well as the CO’s computer, which contained sensitive information on it. Logan and Grant picked through the weapons, taking the high-end prototypes being tested here, and pulled the CO’s hard drive.

“Five minutes.” John’s voice made Logan jump; he’d forgotten that he had a radio bud in his ear. He glanced at Grant, who gave him a thumb’s up - they were done.

Logan returned the gesture and followed the balloons up the shaft toward the exit and the Bus. Elation filled his being as he realized he’d completed a mission. He’d been a part of his team; he belonged to them.

It felt like he’d waited his whole life to belong somewhere, and now that he did, he wasn’t going to give it up, ever.

 

* * *

 

Phil Coulson woke from a nightmare. Groaning, he sat up in his bed, wrinkling his nose at the sweat that had soaked into his sheets. Apparently, he’d been in its grip for some time.

The dream was the same as it had been since May showed him the video. The details changed but the overview as the same - he went slowly, inexorably mad. This nightmare had involved cutting Skye into little pieces and making meat pie for everyone else on the team.

“No more _Hannibal_ for you, buddy.” His habit of giving orders to himself remained a private one, thankfully.

With a grunt, he pushed himself off the bed and went to change his clothing. As he did, he glanced at his clock and mentally calculated what time it was in New York. Then he calculated how long it would take him to get there.

It wasn’t the first time he’d considered ditching the team and running for New York. Banner and Stark should be able to help him, and if they wouldn’t, at least Natasha would be around to comfort him as he went insane.

Thoughts of the redheaded agent made him anxious, as always. His movements became jerky as he pulled another pair of boxers on and selected a new shirt. Phil sighed at himself, annoyed when he realized he was staring at the phone again.

He wanted to call her. He wanted to hear her calm, cool voice tell him that they’d figure it out.

Phil studied the cheap motel bed, rubbing his face when he decided that it was too wet to sleep on it now. He counted the number of towels he had to lay down on the bed and sighed again. Not nearly enough to make sleep comfortable.

He found a dry blanket and pillow and headed out to the pool, slipping into one of the pool chairs. It wasn’t the most comfortable bed he’d ever known but he’d definitely had worse. The former agent of SHIELD wasn’t eager to sleep again but he knew he needed it. He had to hold them together.

He was almost asleep when Skye’s door opened and she stepped out into the night. Phil wasn’t ready to face her, not after that nightmare. He still smiled for her and lifted a hand to sleepily wave. She waved in return and took the chair next to his. “I heard you come out. Nightmare?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He waited tensely for her to ask about it.

Instead she nodded. “I heard you yelling.”

Phil stiffened. “What was I yelling?”

“A woman’s name. Something with a ‘t’. Tonya, maybe Tasha.” Skye looked at him. “You always yell that name when you’re having bad dreams. You’ve been calling out to her a lot recently.”

The agent rubbed his eyes. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t keep any more secrets from Skye or anyone else on his team. This was his personal hell, though. How could he tell them that his mind was going to break under the pressure of knowing he’d died and been brought back to life?

“Who is she?” Skye asked after a moment of silence.

Phil closed his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t talk about this but he did anyway. He opened his eyes to stare at the full moon overhead. “Tasha. I was her SO, once.”

“Wow. Was she HYDRA?” Skye’s question didn’t surprise him, not after her experiences with her SO.

“No, not Natasha.” He saw Skye start when he used the Black Widow’s full first name. “She’d never do that. She’s… beyond doubt, beyond reproach.”

“Do you love her?” The sentence was whispered, a child asking a life-changing question in the dark.

Phil struggled with the answer. He wasn’t sure he himself knew. He’d worked hard to keep the answer to that question a ‘no’. “I suppose so. As much as I let myself love anyone subordinate to me.”

“I love you.” Skye looked at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable in the dark. “Not like _that_.” Not like she had with Ward. “Like family. I want you to tell me the truth - what is wrong?”

Phil drew a deep breath. He’d dreaded this question because his answer wasn’t a good one. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“Would you tell her?” Skye watched him closely. “If she asked?”

Phil chuckled mirthlessly. “I don’t know that she’d give me a choice in the matter.”

His young hacker rose from her chair and sat on the edge of his, taking his hand. Her soft fingers smoothed his rougher skin as she begged, “Then call her. If you won’t tell me, then call Natasha.” He opened his mouth and Skye shook her head as the first tear started to fall. “Phil, _please_.”

If he hadn’t viewed her like a daughter, he might have been able to hold strong. When Skye wept and begged him to get help, he cracked.

It was eight a.m. for her. She should be up.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha hears from Phil. HYDRA becomes less of a sausage fest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short, folks. I didn’t have a good way to break up the next chunk which is fairly large.

Natasha had just finished her breakfast when the phone rang. It wasn’t the encrypted one Stark had given her or the one she’d held onto after SHIELD was gone. It definitely wasn’t her personal phone - the Winter Soldier had blown that phone to pieces and she’d replaced it with a new number. This was her emergency burner.

Only a handful of people in the world had that number, and all but two of them lived in Stark’s tower, less than seven floors from where she was.

Her hands didn’t shake as she picked up the phone. That surprised her a little; she’d thought she’d be more anxious about the possibility of a call from Clint. In her heart, she already knew who it would be.

She didn’t know the number but that wasn’t surprising given the status of SHIELD. She opened the line and said with a Bronx accent, “Vasily's Pizza, ready in fifteen minutes or it’s free.”

“Natasha.” The ragged tone to his voice hollowed out her stomach and the super-spy sat down on her chair.

“Phil.” Natasha had pondered how she’d react to this call; in her mind, she’d always been cold, distant, and full of righteous anger. Now that he was on the line, now that his voice was in her ear, she felt only relief. She couldn’t hide it from him.

“I need to see you. Can I come in?” He sounded steadier and may have even been smiling.

“You can always come in from the cold, Phil.” Natasha paused. “I still have my apartment in Queens.” That was not true; the apartment was in Greenwich. Phil would know that but eavesdroppers shouldn’t.

“I’ll be there in eight hours. I will arrive in town with some friends but they’ll be staying with my mother.” That was Phil’s favorite code for getting a cheap motel.

“Call me when you’re here.” Natasha felt giddy as the truth started to settle into her gut - Phil was coming to see her.

“I will.” There was silence and she thought he’d hung up but he said, “I’ve missed you, Tasha.”

A surge of warmth filled her from her toes to the top of her head. “Your aim always needed work.” The old joke between them felt wonderful. It soured only a little when she remembered that Clint had been part of it, too. “See you soon.”

His voice turned reluctant. “Bye.”

The line went dead. Now all she had to do was wait patiently.

She was terrible at that so she went down to the range to put a few hundred rounds through her guns. That always made her feel better, more centered.

 

* * *

 

Clint watched the two men across the room while sharpshooting inside the shooting range. The fact that he never glanced at his target but still struck the center every time went largely unnoticed. Such a feat was far from unusual with the archer.

His attention was on the sparring forms, wrestling and twisting together as they practiced close combat. Grant rarely stopped practicing; the man worked himself like a machine. Since they were stopping over at the Prague HYDRA base, they were taking advantage of the gym. Clint wasn’t fooled by his act. Grant’s problem was that woman, that Skye. He tried to distract rather than face the problem head on.

By contrast, Clint’s big problem was that he wasn’t allowed to deal with his major problem directly: “Logan”. He glared the man sparring with Grant. Clint still wanted to put an arrow in his eye - both eyes actually, since the first had healed. If he’d had his way, he would have killed the godling and reduced a threat to HYDRA at the same time.

Garrett wasn’t listening to Clint, however. The archer shot his last arrow and started the long walk down the range to fetch his shafts. As he marched, he contemplated the issue, trying to think of another angle to come at it from. John Garrett believed that “Logan” was more useful than dangerous, when the opposite was true. All it would take was a momentary slip in the conditioning, and “Logan” would snap all of their necks with a gleeful giggle.

Ward hit the padded floor with a thump and a grunt. “Ah, you bastard,” he laughingly groaned, holding out a hand to Logan. “You’re getting better.”

“It’s starting to feel more natural.” Logan hauled the other man to his feet with a pleased smile.

Clint scowled at the admission, and at the easy camaraderie between the two men. Ward wasn’t that good of an actor; he was starting to _enjoy_ Loki’s company. He was starting to forget that “Logan” wasn’t their friend.

The door to the gym opened as Clint yanked the last shaft loose. John entered with a woman close on his heels; the flash of red hair made his heart miss a beat. It wasn’t Natasha but the woman sauntering behind John bore some resemblance to her. She had the same confidence and arrogance of Natasha, but she carried herself like she was the only woman in the world. Like the Black Widow, she was fit and well-formed, if a few inches shorter than his former partner. The lack of height exaggerated her curves and Clint felt his interest stir.

Her blue eyes flicked over him and settled on Ward before bouncing to Loki. Her smile widened as she took in the godling, her expression becoming predatory. Clint felt his jaw drop slightly. _Fucking figures_ , he thought sourly, watching the new woman vamp for “Logan”. Shoving the arrows into his quiver, he exited the range. He should at least pretend to be interested, even if she had the poor taste to be drawn to Logan.

“Clint, this is Annabelle Jordan.” John nodded to him as the girl tore her eyes off of Logan and extended her hand toward him. “Annabelle, Clint Barton.”

“Hawkeye.” Her blue eyes roved over his form.

Her name was familiar to him, too. “Ricochet. I hear you can bounce bullets around corners.” When she made a falsely modest expression, he added, “I’d love to see that sometime.”

“I’d be happy to show you all.” Though she’d been speaking to Hawkeye, her eyes darted over to Logan and it was clear whom she was really interested in showing off for.

Clint rolled his eyes; she was so busy ogling Loki that she didn’t notice. Grant did, raising an eyebrow at him. Clint ignored him. “I have target practice. Ricochet - it was nice to meet you.”

“You too,” but once again, she wasn’t talking to anyone but the brainwashed Loki.

Shaking his head, he headed back to the range, anger roiling through him like a wave.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil and Natasha reach a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter and marks a large turning point in the story. I hope you all enjoy!

Natasha had calmed down by the time her doorbell rang. Her heart gave a little jerk as she heard the noise but she forced her movements to be slow and careful. She didn’t go to the front door; she went to the side wall and peeked through the spyhole.

She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she saw it was Phil. He looked so real, so normal, that it caught her off guard. She took a moment to make sure she was in control before she actually opened the door.

“Natasha.” His familiar voice warmed her to her toes as she stepped back from him.

“Come in.” Natasha held the door for Phil. Once she’d closed the door, she turned toward him and hugged -him. He sank into her embrace, his arms curling tightly across her back. “I’m still pissed at you,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“I know.” Phil didn’t let go of her. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she asked, knowing that he’d understand what she wanted clarified.

The agent’s sigh came from deep inside his chest. “Fury’s orders.”

Natasha pushed him away, her expression angry. “You’ve disobeyed his orders before.” She didn’t let the hurt in her heart show.

“I know. And then I wasn’t sure what had happened to me. And then I knew exactly what it was, and I didn’t know how to tell you.” Phil sank onto one of her bar stools, his long fingers resting on the marble. “I still don’t.”

“Just say it.” Natasha crossed her arms, ready for anything.

He was quiet for a long moment. “I died. Fury used something called Project T.A.H.I.T.I. to bring me back.” Phil stared at the swirls in the polished stone as if seeking some secret there.

The red headed assassin tightened her grip on herself, fear and anger rising. “I’m not familiar with that one.”

“That’s because I recommended to Fury that we never use it.” He reached up and rubbed his face wearily. “All subjects brought back to life using the program, well, they went insane. The knowledge that they’d died drove them to various mental disorders, including aphasia and psychosis. The only measure that helped was memory alteration and suppression, and even that didn’t work once the patient started to remember.”

Natasha wasn’t sure what to say. “That wasn’t part of the upload to the internet, so I’ll need to see whatever files you have.”

“I don’t have anything. No previous files, no studies, not even an ongoing analysis of my own biometrics.” Phil’s face was bleak. He pulled a thumb drive from his pocket. “All I have is my video report to Fury.”

Natasha walked to his side and put her hands on his shoulder and arm. “We’ll talk to Stark and Banner. We’ll figure it out.”

“You can say that,” he told her, “but I saw the video of myself, telling Fury-”

She caught his face in her hands, pulling him up to look at her. “Stop it. You were the one who taught me to never give up. And then you went and _died_ on me.”

Natasha hadn’t meant to say the last. She didn’t rescind it; it was truthful. He’d been the one who had been stabbed through the heart and left them behind. “I’m sorry.” Phil’s eyes were full of regret. “I tried to stay. Being stabbed in the heart . . .” He couldn’t finish the joke. “I wish he’d told you.”

“I wish you’d told me.” Her thumbs rubbed his cheeks. “All that held me together was Barton. Then he betrayed us.” Her voice became more accusing. “He was the one that told me you were alive.”

Phil flinched at her words. “I’m sorry. I should have reached out to you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.” He tried to smile. “How many more times do I need to apologize for being completely wrong?”

“Keep going.” Natasha slipped her hands down to his shoulders. “I’ll let you know when you’ve said it enough.” She left her fingers on his jacket for a moment, enjoying the feel of warmth that soaked through the fabric. Finally, she realized she was molesting his shoulders and she stepped back from him. “Have you had dinner?”

“Are you cooking?” he asked, his voice a bit too wary.

“I am.” She shot him a challenging look. “Not all apologies are verbal.”

He sighed and smiled, resigned. “I’d love to have you cook for me, Tasha.”

“I know you would.” She smirked at his expression, watching as he unbuttoned his coat and relaxed against the bar which looked into the kitchen. She pulled out ingredients, deciding that she could make a stir fry with minimal chance of destroying it. “So after dinner, I thought we could go talk to Banner. He’s living in New Jersey.” She stifled a chuckle as she remembered Bruce mentioning he couldn’t make New Jersey worse. “Save Stark for tomorrow.”

Phil hesitated. “Can we do both tomorrow?”

Natasha sliced long strips of pepper before glancing up. “Why wait?”

He sat a little straighter. “I’d rather focus on catching up with you.”

Her fingers stilled in her cutting - only for a moment but they both saw it. Feeling exposed, Natasha picked up the pace again, setting aside the peppers for carrots. “How did you find out about Clint?” she asked softly.

“Maria.” Phil exhaled suddenly and rose to his feet, stripping off his jacket. “Can I do something to help?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves. “I feel useless.”

“You’re my guest, you’re supposed to be useless. But I hate cutting onions, so you can do that.” Natasha pushed the red bulb at him, then fetched another cutting board and knife. “Just dice it. Can you do that?”

“Confirmed bachelor.” His rakish grin reminded her that he wasn’t always a mild-mannered SHIELD agent. “If I couldn’t, I would have starved long ago.”

“I thought you guys just did pizza and McDonalds,” Natasha remarked. Despite her lack of optimism, he peeled the outer layers with familiarity.

“Not when you’ve just started a job in New York City.” Phil’s voice tinged with fond nostalgia as he began to chop the pungent root. “Most of my salary went to pay the rent on a studio apartment in the Bronx above a butcher’s shop. I decided to learn to cook for myself once I grew tired of ramen and hotdogs.”

It was strange to think of Phil as a young man, struggling to make ends meet. Natasha’s lips curling upward slightly as she studied him in a new light. “You never told me that before.”

“I was your superior before.” He looked at her with a frank gaze. “Now, there is no SHIELD.” His assessment of the situation was startling. “We’re peers, agreeing to work on something together - or not. I can’t give you orders anymore.”

Natasha swept the cut carrots into a pile as his words sunk in. There was a question she’d been dying to ask him for years - did she dare now? “I want some wine,” she said, feeling breathless. “Would you like some?”

His eyes seemed knowing to her as he nodded. “I would.” She was projecting her thoughts onto him. He’d so often had the answers that it seemed odd to her that he wouldn’t know everything now.

Natasha poured two glasses of the first blush she found in her fridge. For good measure, she pulled out the terrible red she used to cook with, setting it on the counter. “Do you need the chicken sliced?” Phil asked as she handed him his glass. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, you do the chicken, I’ll do the beef.” She took a deep drink of her wine, watching him covertly as he opened the package of pale meat and started to trim it. To pass the time, she started to cook the baby kale leaves with a splash of the cooking wine. She caught his doubtful expression when he saw the leaves but he said nothing.

She waited until he took a drink before she asked, “Is that why you said no, after Budapest? Because you were my superior?”

His knife slowed until he just set it aside and looked up at her. Natasha could see the older man weighing what to tell her. “Yes and no. It was a part of it. You were also eighteen. It felt- I personally would have felt wrong to have sex with you. Then add in that you’d just come from your old organization, who had been using you since you were a child, and I felt that would be taking advantage.”

She had one answer; time to see if she could get another. He’d started to cut again when she asked, “So why did you turn Clint down?”

“He hadn’t shown an interest in me until you were there.” Phil grimaced slightly and said, “It felt like he was using you to get to me. Like he didn’t want to have sex with me because he wanted it - he wanted to for another reason. I guess at least I know why now - he wanted some hooks in me. Some leverage.”

Natasha slowly nodded. That one statement from him clarified _a lot_ of questions she had, particularly when you combined them with the knowledge that Clint had been HYDRA all along. Thoughts of Clint drew up another unpleasant thought. “Phil, I don’t know if anyone had told you but… Loki’s on Earth.”

He froze, his expression becoming alarmed. “Where?”

“He was in Stark’s custody but Clint broke him out three months ago.” Natasha watched as Phil drained his wine glass. Without him asking, she refilled it. “He shot Loki in the eye, too, so we doubt he’s working for HYDRA. I know that Tony’s hopeful that Clint tortured him to death.”

Phil shook his head. “Garrett wouldn’t waste an asset like that. He’d find a way to use it.”

“Assuming Clint is sharing.” Natasha knew her words were based on hope, not reality. The break-in had been done by a team, not one man. Phil seemed to know that without asking. He took another drink of his wine and went back to cutting the meat, his motions too sharp.

When he was done with the pile, he finally spoke. “I really thought he’d be left on Asgard. I didn’t think I’d have to face him again.”

“It was a political maneuver.” Natasha moved around the counter and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt you again.”

“I know. The odds of us meeting again are small. I’m still… he _killed_ me, Tasha.” He stopped cutting and a tic twisted the right side of his face. He didn’t seem to notice; he held up his hands, which were shaking.

Natasha slipped her hands over his face again. He looked at her with eyes full of confusion and fear, and she leaned in and kissed him. For a second, she thought he might reject her but his arms curled around her waist and pulled her closer, and he began to return the kiss, opening his mouth to hers.

She kissed him until his tremors were gone; lifting her head, she enjoyed the hungry, dazed look his eyes. “Your salad’s going to burn,” he murmured to her.

“Let me worry about my salad.” She kissed him again, just because she could. “Kale has to cook for a while to soften.”

“Kale?” He took another look at the green leaves in the wok. “Does that taste . . . good?”

She turned his face back to hers and pressed a finger to his lips. “It will. No more doubts.”

Hesitantly, he pursed his lips and kissed her finger. His words were sure as he spoke. “I never doubt you, Tasha.”

“Flatterer.” She smiled at him and went to stir the kale before it did burn.

He picked up the knife and finished cutting the chicken, then sat back on the stool and watched her add the other ingredients to the pan. “Is it too soon to ask what you’re doing here?” Phil’s question was asked softly.

“I’m making dinner for you,” she told him flippantly, despite knowing what he was asking.

He sighed with bemused exasperation. “Tasha, what do you want from me? Why are you seducing me?”

“You don’t want me to?” Natasha asked playfully, confident that he truly did.

“I want to know what your end game is.” He rose and took another drink of wine. Then, very deliberately, he loosed his tie and opened his collar button.

Natasha remembered the last time she’d done that to him, the time she thought she’d finally caught him. She’d told him how much she’d enjoyed seeing him so casual yet still in the armor of his position, his sleeves rolled up and that V of throat revealed. That he’d remembered her words from all those years ago made her heart race a little more. She batted her eyes at him. “What will you give me for that information?”

Phil smirked a little. “Agent Romanov, are you trying to barter intel from me?”

She gazed at him coyly. “Of course.”

“Okay,” he replied as she set aside the vegetables and started to cook the meat, “what information do you want me to reveal?”

“What do you want from me?” she asked directly.

She’d thought he might have to think about it, or pretend to think about it. Instead, he locked blue eyes with her and said, “Everything.”

A shiver ran through her at his declaration. “So… my lease?” she asked drily.

Phil didn’t crack a smile. “Everything that matters.” When she didn’t have a smart ass answer to that, he murmured, “Your turn.”

There were times to play dumb or dance around the truth. There were times to be honest, and Natasha had a gift for knowing when to do each. Right now, she knew that Phil had been sincere with her, and she could do no less in return, despite the fears anyone had when they opened up to another person. “I think you’re a good man, one of the few. I thought I’d lost you once. Now that you’re here, I don’t want to miss a chance at something good again.”

Phil frowned, rubbing his thumbs over the edge of the counter. “You know… I may not be here long.”

Natasha met his eyes. “If you’re gone tomorrow, then I have to make the most of tonight, won’t I?”

He drew in a deep breath. “Are you sure? The list included the word ‘psychotic’.”

“Phil.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Shut up and set the table.”

He had to smile. “Yes, Tasha.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” she joked, slapping his ass when he slipped past her.

He jumped and laughed in surprise, putting his arms around her shoulders from behind. “You are going to pay for that,” he promised, his breath a hot whisper in her ear.

“Get used to it. There’ll be more,” she threatened with a grin, “a lot more. For now, I want a kiss. I want _you_ to kiss _me._ ” She wanted him to stop hesitating and start seizing life, joy, and happiness. And her - she definitely wanted him to show how much he wanted her.

He turned her in his arms and looped his arms around her waist. “I’m not really sure this is happening,” he murmured.

“I can pinch you.” She nosed his chin gently. “I will, if you don’t kiss me.”

He smiled faintly then pressed his lips to hers. It was a sweet kiss; when she tried to take control, he resisted her pressure. His intent was clear - this was his kiss and he was in charge in this moment. While it was gentle, he kissed her until they both needed air, then followed it up with a second, quick peck on her mouth. “Salad’s gonna burn,” Phil advised when he lifted his head.

“I have the salad. You set the table.” They each went to their own tasks; Phil fumbled around the cabinets until he found all the plates and utensils, while Natasha added the sauce and put it in a fancy bowl. She usually didn’t bother but tonight was different.

Despite the effort they put into a nice meal, neither one of them really noticed the food. Dinner had become an obstacle, a necessary stop before the next event of the evening. Neither of them had seconds, and no one bothered to put up the extra. Phil did take the dishes into the kitchen, and while he did that, Natasha put on some music and dimmed her lights.

Phil followed her into the living room, the refilled wine glasses in his hands. “I appreciate this but you really don’t have to try so hard.”

“I _want_ to seduce you right.” Natasha looked over her shoulder at him, grinning coyly. “Lights, music, wine. There’s a way things are done, Phil.”

“You’re not leaving me much to seduce you with,” he told her with a smile, offering her glass.

“You’re innovative. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She took a drink before setting aside her glass. Natasha studied him for a moment in the dim light, seeing the character and marks placed on his body by time.

“Reconsidering?” he asked softly, his voice empty of emotion.

“No. Watching.” The red-haired woman stepped forward and pressed her hands to his chest. His free hand curled around her waist lightly. “Studying. Learning.”

He set his glass next to hers and ran his fingers through her hair. Natasha tipped her head up expectantly, the rise of her eyebrows making her impatience clear. His fingers rested against the back of her neck as he kissed her.

As he firmly kissed her, she attacked his tie. It gave her immense satisfaction to pull the end loose from the knot, and she did it in leisurely movements. His lips were also diverting her from what her fingers were doing, so some of her slowness was actually distraction. The line of buttons down his chest were next, revealing the white t-shirt he wore. At the waistband of his pants, his arms tightened as she pulled the tongue of his belt free.

A quick flick of her fingers and his belt hung open, leaving his pants loose enough to pull out the collared shirt. Natasha slipped her hands over his shoulders and swept his overshirt off of them. She took control of his arms long enough to clear the garment from him completely.

She felt his thumbs wiggle up under her shirt, coming to rest on the skin of her waist. She shivered as the sensations wavered between ticklish and erotic. His hands lingered on her waist for so long she thought she might need to take off her own shirt but then he started to ease higher.

Her phone rang.

“I’m going to kill Stark.” Natasha rested her head on Phil’s shoulder.

Phil sighed deeply enough to bob her head. “Do you have to answer it?”

“Yeah. I should at least check with him, make sure Manhattan isn’t on fire or anything.” She didn’t move for another second; when she finally consented to answer the phone, she slipped her hand into Phil’s and dragged him to the ringing device. “Romanov.”

“Most boring greeting ever. I know who you are.” Stark sounded both jovial and stressed. “Where are you, right now?”

“Home.” Natasha smiled at Phil and kissed a knuckle. He lifted her hand and nibbled on her thumb, the gentle pressure of his teeth sending flurries of sensation down to her toes. “What do you want?”

“You’re touchy. Got a date?” he asked.

Natasha quirked an eyebrow. “What if I do?”

“Kiss her goodnight and get down to headquarters. Is it a her? I’d prefer it be a her.” Tony deviated from the matter at hand to try to create some mental porn movies.

Natasha fought not to grind her teeth together; not about being teased by Tony - that was just par for the course. It was the interruption to her date. She glanced at Phil, who shrugged ruefully and mouthed, _It’s okay._

It actually wasn’t okay but Natasha didn’t see a way around it. “What’s going on?” Maybe Stark was overreacting.

“Not over the phone.” Stark’s refusal was unsettling given that this phone was heavily encrypted.

“A hint?” she coaxed.

Stark’s voice grew serious. “Two heads are cropping up.”

 _HYDRA_. “We’re coming in.” As she hung up, she could hear Stark asking, “We?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil returns to Avenger Tower and gets a new mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to say thanks to everyone who has reviewed or left kudos. I appreciate them more than you know, and they make me smile every time I see a new one. Thank you for letting me know that you enjoyed _Redemption_.

“Aren’t you dead? I’m pretty sure you’re dead.” Stark stared hard at Phil when the elevator opened and he exited with Natasha.

The red headed assassin looked at Phil quickly, searching his face for that tic again. She watched her almost-lover twitch once and then visibly, painfully, pull himself together.

“The rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated.” Phil put his hands in his pocket and stood straight; only Natasha suspected the effort it took him to remain calm in the face of Stark’s anger.

“We don’t have time for that.” Steve did have time for disapproval and an unhappy glance but he moved past that shortly. Offering a hand to Phil, he said, “Good to see you back in the land of the living.”

“Thanks.” Phil smiled much more widely at Steve’s acceptance and eagerly shook hands. Dr. Banner simply shook his hand, his smile saying it all.

“What do we have?” Natasha asked briskly, aware of Phil’s position in the room like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

“You and Phil on a date, apparently,” Stark said without missing a beat.

“HYDRA just raided an orphanage in rural China, taking all of the girls aged four to six.” Bruce overrode Stark’s implied question.

Phil glanced at her but said nothing and Natasha was grateful. That age range cut a little close to home, and Tony finished the emotional attack.

“And some cell footage put one Konstantin Volkov at the orphanage, hand-selecting the girls.” Stark was watching her closely as he spoke; Natasha refused to give him the reaction he was seeking.

“Who’s that?” Bruce asked, sensing that the question was important.

“Last known director of the Red Room Academy, Russia’s premier spy school.” Phil answered without looking at Natasha as obviously as Tony had, but she knew he was keeping an eye on her.

“He’s getting new students. It’ll be a decade or more before we see them again, but those girls will be a new generation of spies.” Natasha kept her voice even despite the anger surging in her. Her childhood and life had been stolen from her by Volkov - she wasn’t ready to let that happen to more little girls.

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve had eyes on them since it happened.” Stark gave everyone a smug smile. “The question is, what do we go about it? Do we make it a full frontal or a sneakier attack?”

“Sneakier.” Phil offered the advice immediately. “Volkov will threaten and kill hostages.”

“Are you allowed to make comments?” Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “I think people who pretend to be dead aren’t allowed to play with the big boys anymore.”

“I didn’t pretend to be dead.” Phil took a deep breath and said, “I died. Fury has a few tricks up his sleeve. I originally came here to see if you could help me with the side effects. But I think we have a bigger problem to deal with right now.”

“Actually, the Red Room issue can wait.” Bruce held up hands to fend off Natasha’s angry glare. “It can. They aren’t going to hurt those girls right now. They’re probably still transporting them.”

“When that’s done, they’ll start breaking them down. Immediately.” Natasha spoke softly but the intensity in her voice made up for volume. “We have until they are done transporting them to find and rescue them.”

“Fine, while you guys do that, I’ll run some tests-” The sudden alarm broke off Bruce’s words and stopped the gesture he’d been making toward Phil.

“JARVIS?” Tony asked.

The calm, electronic voice of Tony’s butler filled the air. “Sir, there is another pressing issue, one which may require you, Dr. Banner, and Captain America to intercede. A cruise ship is starting to take on water and they are having issues with the lifeboats. They indicate that there will be loss of life.”

“Then I’ll get my team and Natasha and I can handle the Red Room.” Phil spoke into the silence after JARVIS’s announcement.

“I thought _we_ were your team.” Stark mimed wiping away a tear. “I’m hurt to find out you were cheating on us with another.”

“I was assigned a new team by Fury.” Phil smiled slightly. “Nothing personal.”

“It feels personal.” Tony waved the words away a moment later. “Right. So Cap, the Green Machine, and I will go deal with the cruise ship and leave you and Lazarus-”

“Stop it.” Phil shivered. “I know that you joke to deal, Stark, but stop it. My death and the reversal of that state are _not_ grist for your humor mill. Understood?”

Natasha saw that ghost of a tic pass through him again but it abated more quickly this time. Tony narrowed his eyes at Phil but Natasha interrupted before he could press her almost-lover. “Call your team, Phil. Do you have a jet?”

“Yes.” He sounded vaguely annoyed, as if he didn’t like the plane.

Steve nodded. “Tony, can you give them access to the tower so they can continue to use the resources?”

“If they say please.” Despite his words, Tony was already making the changes to the system with quick motions of his fingers. “Though only Phil and Natasha can access it. The junior varsity squad will have to deal with standard guest access.”

“Which means?” Natasha asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Bathrooms, cafeteria, main areas, and basic internet.” Tony smirked. “No parties while the adults are away.”

 

* * *

 

Phil had changed overnight. Skye smiled to see the changes in him. He moved with more confidence than he had before, and watching him work with Natasha was just cute. He clearly cared deeply for her, smiling at her for no reason other than to smile. If only their situation was less dire.

“Alright, JARVIS still has eyes on the HYDRA goons who grabbed the girls, and they’ve been heading for the South Indian Ocean.” Phil was in his tactical gear, his sleeves rolled up, which meant they had a serious mission. “There are approximately thirty young Chinese girls, ages three to five, loaded on a modified B-52. We can catch them since they are significantly slower than us.”

“We don’t know how many hostiles are on the plane.” The Black Widow turned to face them, her face set in strong lines. Skye found her intimidating and wanted to be just like her, all at the same time. “We know that they will kill the hostages. These girls mean nothing to them. They’re untrained, raw recruits, of little value to them. If necessary, they’ll dump them and get more.”

“So priority one is getting the girls.” Triplett didn’t seem awed by Natasha. Of course, his grandfather had been a Howling Commando - perhaps he’d met SHIELD’s big guns before.

“Absolutely. We also want to capture Valkov. If they have him, they’ll just try again.” Phil looked around the room at each member of his team to be sure they understood. “The plan is to follow the plane’s path, based on the data from Stark’s satellite. Once it sets down, we’ll hit it, rescue the children, and capture Volkov and his associates.”

“We have to be fast.” Natasha gestured to the weapons on the table. “If you go into the firefight, you can’t hesitate. Shoot anything taller than three feet.”

“You don’t have to worry about killing,” Fitz said quickly. “We have the sleepytime gun.”

Natasha’s glance at him said he was clearly a cute kid. Fitz flushed a touch, as one of the people who _was_ intimidated by the Black Widow. Simmons came to his rescue, naturally. “Some of us aren’t comfortable killing, Agent Romanov.”

“I know.” She smiled but it wasn’t a happy expression. “That’s what Agent May and I are there for.”

“Questions?” Phil brought the meeting back on track. When there were none, he said, “Everyone is dismissed. Try to rest while we wait.”

Skye watched people disperse, knowing where most of them would go. Fitz-Simmons would probably return to the lab and tinker on something while claiming that was resting. Trip would probably take a nap; he had the easiest time convincing his body to relax. May was piloting the jet. Phil would either join her or review the mission parameters again. He never stopped working before a mission, and it somehow never affected him.

Natasha was the one that Skye didn’t know, so instead of heading to her own space to do some light reading on her various blogs, she pretended to review the maps Coulson had laid out again.

“I see your tie is loosened.” Natasha had spoken so softly that Skye almost didn’t hear it.

She saw Phil glance at her but she kept her attention squarely on the screen in front of her, using her finger to trace the plane’s projected paths. “I thought you might enjoy that,” he murmured.

“Tease.” Natasha sounded less like the intimidating Black Widow and more like a woman flirting with a man, and Skye stifled a smile. “You’ll pay for that.”

Phil’s voice warmed and Skye flushed at the heat in his words. “I hope so.”

In a normal voice, Natasha said, “I’m going to the cockpit to talk to Melinda for a moment.”

Phil nodded to her, and Skye thought she saw their hands briefly tangle together before parting. “Skye?” Her name made her jump and she turned to Phil, hoping she didn’t have a guilty look on her face. “Did you have a question?”

“Yeah.” Thinking quickly to cover her eavesdropping, she pointed at the potential landing zone for the plane. “Do you know the terrain here?”

“I was going to cover that when we knew exactly where they were putting down, but that island is pretty much the rum island in _Pirates of the Caribbean._ ” Phil went on to elaborate more, but Skye was too busy thinking about how frickin’ _cute_ he and Natasha were together to really pay attention.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil and Natasha's mission goes awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I wanted to communicate with you guys - updates, new stories, and such - which platform should I use? Twitter, Tumblr? Let me know what would be easiest for you guys and I'll set one up!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!

The plane landed on the airstrip as warm wind ruffled Logan’s clothing. He watched the flying carrier roll itself to a stop and the rear hatch lower. “C’mon,” Grant said sourly, hopping off the jeep hood he’d been sitting on. “Let’s get this over with.”

Grant liked this duty about as much as Logan did. The super-soldier didn’t enjoy the sick feeling in his gut as he followed Grant to the plane. He joined HYDRA to stop this kind of injustice, not perpetuate it. As Garrett had said: until the world had been liberated and order set in place, horrors such as the Red Room Academy would have to be suffered.

The girls were being herded off of the plane. The crying children huddled together like sheep and Logan glanced away. He caught Grant staring at the girls with muted horror. _This mission is going to suck._

“Get ‘em in motion!” Barton’s shout made the girls flinch, though even Logan could tell his harshness was because of the mission. He was an asshole, not a sadist.

Ricochet was the one enjoying herself, stepping toward the girls with a smile. Logan had already figured out her mean streak; he’d seen it the first day. She was a bully, just like his brother Thomas and his father.

Volkov herded the girls down the ramp with the help of HYDRA soldiers. “Is everything ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” Barton said, stepping forward. “We have the transport ready to go.”

Logan’s eye fell on one of the girls. She was tiny but had the stance of a child, not a toddler. Her huge eyes overflowed with endless tears but she didn’t make a single noise. There was a plea in her brown orbs, a silent request for clemency. He pulled his eyes away, hating this assignment. Of course, their real mission wasn’t the children. The children and Volkov were just the bait in a bigger trap.

The roar of a plane overhead brought a smirk to Barton’s face. “Right on time.”

“We knew he couldn’t pass up this treat,” Ricochet laughed. Logan’s lips twisted at her use of the word ‘treat’ to describe the children. She pulled her face mask into place, becoming one more HYDRA trooper. Logan, Barton, and Grant followed her lead.

Without being told, Logan moved closer to the children. He couldn’t help his sense of protectiveness toward them; he’d always had a soft spot toward the weaker members of his race. It was why he’d joined HYDRA.

The plane banked sharply and straightened, coming low over the water. The soldiers watched as black forms dropped from the plane into the water. “Get the kids inside!” Logan shouted to Grant, who exchanged a nod with him. This beach was about to become a warzone.

“Volkov, move.” Barton gave the Russian scientist a push and then followed Ricochet in taking cover. The Russian ran ahead, plowing aside children in his haste. Logan didn’t need to see Grant’s face to know he was disgusted with the other man.

“Move, girls.” Grant started in English, then attempted Manadrain. They’d learned how to say ‘move’ and ‘that way’ in anticipation of today. The girls were more than happy to run for the concrete bunker rising out of the sand, following the path Volkov was making. “Take point,” he told Logan over the radio.

Logan quickly reached the first girl, and he had the first row seat when Natasha Romanov appeared at the top the bunker, her guns in hand. For a second, her appearance threw him for a loop; he had a mental flash of her standing on the other side of a glass wall, smiling like a fox. Then the moment was gone, shattered as she shot Volkov in the chest. That alone would not have killed him - Volkov was wearing a vest under his coat - but she placed her next three shots in his head. Logan lifted his gun to shoot her, and to his shock, found that she was already pointing her gun at him.

The three shots were centered neatly on his chest and their force knocked him to the ground. Growling, he rolled to his feet, ignoring the burn in his bruised muscles. He came up aiming at her but she was already gone.

A blue bolt snapped out of the underbrush and caught him in the gut. For a moment, Logan was disabled, his body nonresponsive. _Grant talked about this. The gun that knocks people unconscious._ Another bolt snapped over his head, over the children. _Grant. That was for Grant._ He couldn’t move yet, to see if Grant had escaped.

A young man stepped out of the bushes, the sleep gun clutched in his hand. He gave Logan a kick to see if he was down, and Logan didn’t try to grab for him. He wasn’t sure he could move yet so he waited until he knew he could - waited until he was sure of his ability to take the boy out cleanly.

Then he saw the real enemy: Phil Coulson followed the young man from the cover, stalking across the sand. He stepped right over Logan but again, the other man didn’t try to grab him. He could clinch one fist tightly now but he couldn’t bend his elbow. Cursing silently, he worked on moving his body. He had to get up and save his compatriots.

More gunfire from the beach nearly drove him mad with a desire to _see_ what was happening. He turned his head, hoping that no one was looking at him when he did it. Batroc and his men were storming the beach, as planned. It was the Avengers who were screwing up their plan.

No one was watching him, and with a groan, Logan rolled onto his stomach. His arms didn’t like it but they did work when he pried off his helmet. The fresh air helped and he positioned his gun against his shoulder and aimed. He didn’t trust himself enough to shoot yet, especially since his vision was going double occasionally. Grant was sprawled in the sand but worse was Clint and Ricochet - they were pinned down by Batroc’s forces and Coulson’s team.

 _At least Iron Man or the Captain isn’t here._ Both of them would be dealing with the cruise ship problem that Garrett had arranged. Logan remained on his stomach for now, thinking. To his left, most of Coulson’s people were focusing on the girls, herding them back through the trees. Romanov and Coulson were shooting at Barton and Ricochet.

The two experienced agents were more dangerous and Logan shifted his focus to them. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, pleased that everything was working, albeit slowly. Staggering, he got to his feet and ran to the treeline, sagging against the rough bark of a palm tree with a grunt.

That maneuver left Logan only a hundred feet away from Coulson and Romanov, with their backs to him. It was the best place to be yet he wasn’t happy. He could easily shoot them, and he was solely tempted to do so. He knew Garrett wanted them taken prisoner. Logan agreed with Barton on this matter: Romanov was one of the most dangerous people in the world and Coulson had a tendency to upset the best HYDRA plans.

Still, Logan obeyed orders, despite that rebellious stirring he felt in his gut. Part of him didn’t want to obey the orders and he wasn’t sure why. He stifled those questions; now was not the time.

He slowed to a fast walk as he neared them, his boots muffled by the sand. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and pulled out the taser. With Romanov’s improved physique, that wouldn’t stop her. It should take Coulson down and Logan knew that he could beat Romanov in hand-to-hand.

Logan was almost there when Romanov spun on him. He was sure he hadn’t made a noise but she’d spotted him somehow. He saw a flicker of horror cross her face but that didn’t slow her kick to his head. He blocked the blow easily and prepared to trap her foot.

A gun fired and the bullet punched him in the chest. Even through his body armor, it stung like hell but it didn’t slow him down. The shooter, Coulson, looked at him over the barrel and Logan saw that same reaction of horror as Romanov had given, only magnified.

_“You’re gonna lose.”  The gasping breath of a dying man._

_Arrogance swelled in his heart and he felt a cruel grin stretch his face. “Am I?”_

_“It’s in your nature.”_

_Black humor joined the arrogance - this worm of a mortal was trying to shake him. “Your heroes are scattered. Your flying fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?”_

_Mortal eyes filled with pure belief. “You lack conviction.”_

Logan came back to himself kneeling in the sand. _That was a visual trigger_ , he told himself as he tried to pull his thoughts back together. Coulson stared at him, frozen, gun shaking. Romanov had a gun to the side of his head, screaming for him to surrender.

She was calling him Loki. She was trying to reinforce the brainwashing.

Logan rose in a rush, twisting her gun away and slamming his palm into her chin. Her head snapped back too hard and she flew backwards into a palm tree. _Christ, Garrett will kill me if I kill her,_ he thought, taking half a step toward her.

Someone slammed into him: Coulson. The man couldn’t match him physically but he had gotten the jump on Logan. They dropped into the sand together, Coulson’s face twisted with fury as he wrapped his hands around Logan’s throat. From his perch on top of the other man, Coulson had the leverage to squeeze viciously. “You stay the _fuck_ away from her!” he hissed at Logan.

It should have been easy to sweep Coulson off of him but when Logan tried to push him off, the man somehow found the strength to remain on top of him, throttling him. He was even cutting off Logan’s air which was remarkable - not life-threatening to the super-soldier but impressive nonetheless.

Logan bucked his hips against the other man, angling the blow to the right. At the same time, he yanked down on the edge of Coulson’s armor and rolled the man off of him. A continuation of that roll put him on top and he reared back against the agent’s grip. It took more strength than it should have to break the vise of fingers around his throat given that Coulson was a mere man.

Romanov groaned softly and stirred; Coulson and Logan both glanced at her. Logan was a little amused at the twin relief on their faces but Coulson cared for her more and so Logan recovered first. When Coulson turned his gaze and attention back to the fight, Logan ended it with a tap on his jaw. Granted, a ‘tap’ from the closed fist of a super soldier still left the man insensible in the sand but Logan couldn’t get much gentler than that.

Quickly, he flipped Coulson onto his face and used a zip tie to bind his arms, then moved to Romanov. She stirred again, pushing herself up so she was half sitting, so he pulled her arms behind her. Just as he was reaching for a tie, the woman somehow braced one foot in the sand and shoved against him. Her shoulders rocked back into his chest while her other knee curled up and caught him in the eye. The ease with which she completed the inhuman movement was the most surprising; Logan had known cats that were less flexible than her.

He reeled back but kept his grip on her wrists. His eye was starting to throb; he’d be bruised for a few minutes. She twisted somehow and kicked him in the shoulders with both feet, and he had an inkling of why Barton was so obsessed with her.

Logan pulled on her arms, sliding them under one knee and pinning them. She ended up with her weight on her shoulders and her back pressed against his legs. Her knees curled forward, probably to kick him again, and he caught her by the ankle. “Don’t make me break all your arms and legs to capture you, Romanov.”

He felt her surrender as the tension left her muscles before she choked, “Fine.”

Logan eased her onto the sand and bound her hands like he had with Coulson. As an added determent to her escape, he bound her feet, and then lashed both ties to a grenade. “The pin will pull if you move your arms and legs apart,” he informed her as he rose from his crouch. He felt the urge to stroke her face and shook it off with effort.

“Understood.” She didn’t look afraid, just determined. He had no doubt that she’d try to escape the second his back was turned. His little puzzle should keep her busy for the few minutes it would take to secure Batroc.

As it turned out, he didn’t even need that long. By the time he’d jogged out of the stand of trees, Ricochet and Barton stood proudly over their prisoner. Batroc looked angry yet resigned; it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been nabbed. “Where were you?” Barton smirked at him. “Decide to get in a little nap with Grant?”

Logan glanced over to see Garrett and McCulloch reviving Grant. Normally, Barton’s remark would have pissed him off but instead it was the perfect opening for Logan. “Actually, I was busy fighting SHIELD.”

“You mean the ones that got away with the kids and killed Volkov?” Barton shot back.

Ricochet sidled up to Logan, reaching for his face. “Are you hurt?”

He dodged her hand, particularly since she’d been going for his eye. He didn’t like people touching his eyes. “I will be fine. My prisoners should be, too.”

“Prisoners?” Garrett asked, turning toward their group with interest in his eyes. Barton took in the growing smirk on Logan’s face, and the archer’s eyes narrowed as his lips pressed into a straight line.

“Yes. SHIELD prisoners. Coulson _and_ Black Widow.” Logan smiled widely. “I expect a bonus for Christmas, John.”

Garrett’s face split in a wide grin. “Forget Christmas, Logan. You’re getting a bonus now!”

The venomous look from Barton made it all worth it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil and Natasha among HYDRA.

They were on an operations plane stolen from SHIELD; Natasha had seen that much before they’d shoved her up the ramp and into this holding room. She sat stiffly in her seat, thinking about possible avenues of escape.

The door opened and Hawkeye entered. Physically he hadn’t changed with the same handsome face and toned body. She didn’t find it appealing anymore. She waited tersely, watching Clint’s every move. To her surprise, she wasn’t crippled with pain; she burned with anger. He’d pretended to be her friend for years - her _best_ friend. She’d told him things she’d never shared with anyone else. He had unparalleled knowledge of her while all she knew about him was his persona.

 _No, that’s not true. No one can hide themselves completely. You have pieces of the real Clint. Find them and use them._ She relaxed fractionally and sat back, crossing her legs. The chains of her arm restraints slid across the metal table, stopped by the loop in the middle of the structure.

His masculine chuckle shattered the silence in the room. “You just decided to play me, didn’t you?” Clint asked, running his fingers over the seam of table.

Natasha smiled. “You know me so well. And you know that knowledge of being played-”

“Doesn’t stop me from being played. I know.” He returned her smile and for a heart wrenching moment, he was her friend Clint again. “I just wanted to see you. To talk to you.”

“What did you do to Loki?” she asked, trying to pry at him.

Barton made a face and Natasha realized she’d scored some kind of hit on him. “What is it with you redheads and that asshole?”

“Ricochet doesn’t want to be your best friend?” Natasha shook her head, her long red hair following the motion. “She’s a rather poor replacement for me, anyway.”

Clint visibly restrained his anger, his fingers pressing into the table. “Sure you don’t want to join us?”

Natasha didn’t hide her disappointment at the question. “Join HYDRA? Those are the exact people _you_ convinced me to fight.”

“No, they’re the people that you should be helping.” He shook his head. “They’re trying to bring order to the world.”

“No, they’re trying to bring stasis to the world.” Natasha tilted her head, keeping the demeanor of two people having a friendly if intense debate. “I’m Russian - I know the difference between order and control.”

Clint leaned forward. “It would go better for you if you switched sides.”

Natasha laughed softly. “Clint, I’m going to a cell no matter what. They’ll never trust me.”

“You’ll have a lot nicer cell,” Clint promised. His fingers moved marginally closer. “Maybe some visitors.”

“Oh, I’ll have visitors in the not-nice cell, too.” Natasha smirked knowingly. “At least there I’ll be able to live with myself.”

Clint sighed heavily, his fingers retracting. “You’ve got it wrong, Tasha. HYDRA isn’t the bad guy here.”

“So you keep saying yet the evidence mounts.” She met his gaze unflinchingly. “You employ tactics such as the ones used on Dethlok, and don’t forget that you have one of the worst threats to humanity on your payroll.”

“He came from SHIELD’s house,” Clint replied easily.

“The Avengers’, actually, and we were keeping him in a cell.” Her eyes narrowed. “How’d you get him to agree to work with you after what you did to him?”

Clint smirked and sat back, tucking his hands behind his head. “Does it burn you that I managed to get Loki to sign the dotted line and you didn’t?”

“I don’t think you got him to sign up for this,” Natasha shot back. “He was wearing human clothing instead of Asgardian, and I noticed that he had a lack of magical know-how.” The corner of Clint’s mouth twitched, a sure tell he was struggling with a comeback that wouldn’t reveal his real purpose, so she took a shot in the dark. “He didn’t seem himself at all - very on-task for a being as chaotic and mad as Loki. I’ve seen HYDRA do that before, to a greater extreme. Steve’s going to be pissed that HYDRA is still using the Winter Soldier protocols on people, and I don’t want to be in the blast zone when Thor catches up to you.” Clint swallowed nervously and Natasha leaned forward. “That’s nothing compared to what Loki will do when he breaks free.”

McCulloch opened the door suddenly, saving Clint from a response. “Barton, Garrett wants you.”

 _Yes, run off before you give me more information._ Natasha was pleased with what she’d managed to get so far. She gave Clint a cat-with-the-cream smile, enjoying the effort he took to suppress his answering grimace. “Oh, and Clint?”

Her words caught him mid-rise and he leaned against the table rather than walking away. “Tasha?”

She shook loose the object hidden in her glove, dropping it into her other hand. She’d hid it there before they’d had a chance to search her for weapons. Leaning forward, she held her hand in a position to drop what was in it and Clint instinctively moved to catch it. The silver chain with its telltale arrow fell into his glove. “I don’t need this anymore.”

His eyes widened and he looked at her, meeting her gaze. Natasha was a little surprised by the genuine hurt she saw in him. She knew what he hadn’t said when he’d given it to her and she’d said the same in accepting it. Now that statement of affection had been severed. “Even if you give it to the woman you make me be,” she said evenly, “you’ll know that I didn’t want it.” _That I didn’t want you._

Clint’s fingers tightened around the former gift. Straightening, he stalked out but McCulloch hovered in the doorway. His gaze raked from the top of her head to her feet, lingering on her breasts for a long moment. “If you get lonely, Red, let me know.” He pursed his lips at her.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Spare me the awkward come-ons, McCulloch. I’ve seen your work. There’s no way I’m letting you near me willingly.”

“And that’ll make it all the sweeter when Garrett gives ya to me anyway.” The man’s eyes traveled up and down her body but this time the creepy gaze wasn’t sexual. He was measuring her for his operating table and Natasha felt the hair on her arms rise. She remembered the surgeries he’d done that had landed him on SHIELD’s radar.

She had to get Phil and herself out of here, immediately. They could come back for Loki later.

 

*  *  *

 

When Phil opened his eyes, he immediately wished he could close them and lapse into unconsciousness. “John Garrett,” he said, checking to see if he could sit up. His arms were restrained and the band around his chest stopped vertical movement. Through the bed, he could feel a familiar vibration: they were on the Bus. _I’ve missed you, old gal._

“Phil Coulson.” To his surprise, Garrett rose and adjusted the bed so that Phil was sitting. He was suspicious of this; psychologically, he’d be at a disadvantage if flat on his back. “Now that we’ve established that we know each other’s names, I have a question for you.”

“No, I won’t join HYDRA.” Phil didn’t have to be Natasha to figure that one out. Thoughts of her ignited a panic in his guts but he ignored it. Giving into fear wouldn’t help her.

“Not even to save Agent Romanov from torture?” Garrett asked, an eyebrow rising.

Phil laughed. “You don’t know her very well if you think Agent Romanov would appreciate a gesture like that. I’ve never met anyone more capable of defending herself.” It was part of why he loved her.

He wondered if they’d live long enough for him to tell her that.

Garrett shrugged. “I had to try.”

“You didn’t actually.” Phil stared at him, wondering why he never saw this side of the man.

That drew a laugh out of the turncoat. “Well, shit. I was hoping you’d come over willingly. It makes for a better supervisor-subordinate relationship.”

Phil narrowed his eyes. “Why are you trolling through your prisoners for recruits?”

“You should feel honored. It’s all because you guys are really good at your jobs.” Garrett smiled bitterly. “I need good people. Already trained elite people are at the top of my ‘to-get’ list.”

“We won’t work for you.” Phil left no room for hesitation or doubt in his statement.

“ _You_ won’t. Your bodies and skills are another matter.” Garrett’s smile had turned gruesome.

His intent was easy to guess after seeing Loki in action. Fighting down a surge of panic at the idea of being rewritten and forced to work for HYDRA, Phil smiled as confidently as he could manage. He wasn’t sure that it was working but he had to try. “You know that familiar settings and people tend to break down brainwashing rather quickly.”

“Oh, you and the Black Widow won’t be working with or for us. You’ll be working for another cell in HYDRA, separate cells. You’ll be kept away from Logan, too.” Garrett smiled grimly. “Just to be safe.”

Phil made a grimace of disbelief. “I don’t know if it’s accurate to use the word ‘safe’ when dealing with someone like Loki.”

“You have to take risks.” Garrett sounded like a man discussing a tricky merger instead of a man talking about the god-like being he was deceiving. “Especially in our business.”

You took risks, yes, but they were balanced with payouts. You didn’t take risks because they were there. Phil’s eyes narrowed. “What are you planning, John?”

He didn’t expect one and wasn’t disappointed when Garrett merely smiled at him. “You’ll be briefed on that later. After your procedure.”

Chills cascaded down Phil’s spine. “You are going to be sorry you did this,” he warned the HYDRA agent.

John grinned at him, and the smirk said it all: _I know you need to put up a big front. It’s okay. I understand._ John simply said, “Have a good night’s sleep, Phil. You’re going to need your rest tomorrow.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. I’ve been busy lately with work and projects. I’ll try to post no less than once a week here on out. 
> 
> And for those wondering, about 40% of the story has been posted to date.

Logan sat uncomfortably in the meeting, watching his fellow agents. “Caverly hasn’t done anything for us recently,” Barton argued, flipping an arrowhead up into the air and catching it idly. “Why should he get her?”

“You’ve argued against every single one of our placements for Black Widow.” Ricochet’s smile suggested that he was a schoolboy with a crush.

Her attitude clearly pissed off the archer but he didn’t argue against her statement. “Natasha is a valuable asset, so we need to assign her to a cell that deserves her.”

Logan realized his fingers were pressing into the varnished tabletop. With effort, he stopped before he damaged the furniture or someone noticed. They were talking about rewriting people’s personalities and giving them away to the highest bidder - or as Barton argued, the one who most deserved them.

“I do like the idea of bids more.” McCulloch grinned widely. “Make a bit of profit for our cell.”

“They’re people.” Grant sat at Logan’s right and suddenly the super-soldier felt like he was in the sane block of people at the table. Unfortunately, that was two sane people to four insane.

“So it’s better to imprison or kill them?” Garrett asked. “To let their resources go to waste?”

“Sir, I respect Phil Coulson. I don’t know Black Widow but all I’ve heard about her was good.” Grant paused to pick his words before saying, “This doesn’t feel right.”

“I concur.” Logan didn’t realize he was going to speak until the words came out. “This is very, very wrong.”

“It’s for the greater good.” Ricochet brushed her red hair back with strong fingers, looking bored. “Grant, this is the best solution possible.”

“These are people we respect. People we even love.” Grant shook his head, palms pressing against the table. “This is a horrible way to treat them.”

Garrett snorted. “So it’s okay with an enemy, just not an enemy we like, like Coulson-”

_“Loki’s dangerous. You should just let me put an arrow into his other eye. Without a blunt head shot at an angle.”  The sound of an apple crunching between teeth, as loud as a board snapping into pieces._

_“Dangerous but potentially useful.”_

“Logan?” Grant’s cautious touch on his shoulder jerked his head up sharply. Logan was panting and sweating, his hands aching. He looked down at them to see shattered pieces of the table clenched in them, so tightly that he’d drawn blood. He’d broken off two half-moons of wood. _That was what I heard in the fugue._ Grant’s voice jarred him from his thoughts. “Are you okay?”

Logan looked around the table. Ricochet looked concerned, as did Grant. There was fear in Grant’s eyes, too, a fear he saw echoed in all the other men - particularly Barton.

“Did you bump your head harder than ya thought?” McCulloch spoke with far too much casualness.

 _They’re afraid that SHIELD’s brainwashing is coming back._ Logan forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just a few splinters.” He pulled one out, a three-inch piece that was better described as a toothpick instead of a splinter. The hole it left behind bled freely for a moment before starting to close.

“If the conversation is bugging you that much, you can sit out.” Garrett almost never gave passes like this but today he seemed to be in a giving mood. “You, too, Grant.”

“You’re still going to brainwash people I respect? Sell them like-” Grant struggled with the word. “Like an elite computer program? Custom made to the buyer’s specs.”

“You didn’t argue last time we did this.” Garrett spoke softly, his voice filled with a clear warning.

“Last time?” Logan asked, looking around the room.

The silence that followed his innocent question was filled with awkwardness, right until Garrett smoothly said, “Before your time.”

“Then wouldn’t Grant have been buried deep in SHIELD?” Logan knew the timeline pretty well at this point. He’d gone over the files to be sure he knew what was real and what was memory.

Garrett slapped the table, grinning expansively. “Of course. You’re right, Logan.” His voice was filled with reproach as he looked at Grant. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Why don’t you two sit this out if you’re uncomfortable?”

Logan put the shattered pieces of wood on top of the table and stood with all the dignity he could muster. Grant stood with him and followed him out to the infirmary. Silently, Grant pulled out the first aid gear while Logan dropped into a seat. When the super-soldier started to grasp the tweezers so that he could dig out the shards of wood, his companion took them from him. “I’ve got you,” Grant murmured and bent over Logan’s hands.

Having someone care for his wounds did much to calm Logan. The simple sign that someone cared soothed him. “Thank you, Grant.”

“You know, we are friends.” Grant looked up at him hastily, trying to gauge what Logan was thinking. “It’s hard to tell here, sometimes. Things get all . . . mixed up. I think of you as a friend.”

“We’ve been friends for a while. About six months before SHIELD grabbed me, and the last three here. Almost a year. That’s a long time in our business,” Logan pointed out with a slight smile.

“I know, I know. I just-” Grant cut himself off, looking uncomfortable with the topic. “I wanted you to know that, regardless of whatever else happens, you are one of my friends.”

“And you’re mine.” Logan reached out to grasp his shoulder but stopped before he actually put his bleeding hand on Grant. “Right now, you’re the only friend in HYDRA that I’m comfortable with, actually.”

“Yeah, I know.” Grant dropped his gaze back to Logan’s hand. He worked in silence for a moment, pulling splinters and applying disinfectant that Logan probably didn’t need. “Garrett’s right about one thing: if I’m opposed to doing this just because I like people, I should be opposed to doing it to everyone.”

“Who did they do it to last?” Logan was a little curious about that, given the way it had disquieted his friend.

Grant cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the wounds. “A powerful being. Someone who had tried to kill lots of people. HYDRA captured him and the decision was made to rewrite him.”

Logan felt a shiver of unease pass through him but he hid it with a smile. “Sounds like an unpleasant fellow. It sounds like he was better off rewritten.”

“I didn’t know him, so I can’t tell you.” Grant glanced up, smiling. “But I did meet the Winter Soldier once, before he went AWOL.”

“What was he like?” Logan had heard stories of HYDRA’s most famous assassin, one reputed to have beaten the Black Widow.

Grant paused for a long moment. “Empty. They’d stripped everything out of him and left a killing machine behind.” He met Logan’s eyes. “I don’t want to see them do the same to Phil Coulson. To rip away the man he was and leave a stranger behind.” He sat up. “You’re patched up.”

“I don’t know that we can do anything.” Logan did put his hand on Grant’s shoulder, enjoying offering the comfort he’d just been given. “I’m sorry. If there was something I could do . . .” He thought and asked, “Do you think Garrett would listen to another argument?”

“No, but I’m going to try.” Grant stood up. “I think I’ll get him alone. Maybe I can help him see sense if it’s just the two of us.”

“Good luck.” Logan left the infirmary with him, watching as Grant headed toward the meeting room on his mission. When he was out of sight, Logan turned to work on his own project: finding out why Phil Coulson’s presence or mere name sent him into fugue states. There was no better time with everyone else in a meeting.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye makes another decision.

The room that Coulson was being held in was close to the infirmary; Logan didn’t have long to ponder whether this was a good idea or not. He didn’t _want_ to talk himself out of it. The super-soldier didn’t hesitate at the door, giving himself only a second to brace himself before opening it.

Coulson looked up at him and stiffened, jerking tight against his bonds. Logan felt a fugue coming on again and he barely entered and closed the door before he went to his knees.

_A glass prison, his brother inside. Coulson pointing a gun at him, as Logan drew on the magic that was familiar to him as breathing. He set up a decoy illusion-_

With effort, Logan pulled himself back from that false memory. He’d never known magic of any kind. When he looked up at Coulson, the man stared at him with pure fear. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Logan rasped.

“You ki-killed me.” Coulson got that single sentence out before having some kind of seizure. His eyes rolled back in his head and he jerked against the restraints in a broken rhythm. “T-t-tasha!”

If Coulson died Garrett would have his head. Logan wasn’t a doctor and didn’t know what else to do; he hurried out of the room to the next one, where the Black Widow was trying to pretend she hadn’t just been attempting to pick her cuffs. “Come on, you,” Logan growled, grabbing the ring that chained her to the table and breaking it loose with a sharp jerk.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he caught her by the arm and dragged her into the hallway.

“He’s having a seizure.” Logan shoved her into the room. “Tell me what to do!”

“Phil.” The whisper was full of fear but the woman didn’t hesitate to hop up on the bed, straddling him. Logan’s eyebrows rose at this unconventional treatment but it seemed to work. Coulson stopped seizing though his body remained taut with tension.

“Tasha.” Coulson whispered the name as ardently as a prayer.

Logan saw her fingers trace lightly over his face and her touch eased the terrible strain of his locked muscles. Coulson tipped up his chin, seeking a kiss, but Romanov whispered, “We have company.”

Coulson looked past her. “Loki.”

Logan pressed his lips together as his fair face reddened. “I am _not_ -”

Behind him, the lock snapped on the door. Logan spun and peered through the observation window to see Barton on the other side of the door. “What?” Logan asked just as Barton did something to the controls next to the door. They dropped into free fall as the room disconnected from the plane. The lights blinked out a second later.

Logan was thrown to the roof; Romanov almost joined him but already had a grip on Coulson. The weight of the bed kept them from slamming into it with the violence he’d experienced. They weren’t saved when the room started to roll, flinging them about wildly. Logan saw glimpses of a blue-black sky through the window as they fell.

The impact with the water dropped him to the floor and threw Romanov across him. Coulson’s bed landed inches away from Logan’s knee, sparing him a painful injury. The emergency light flickered to life, sensing the lack of power and switching over to batteries. It gave the room a dim, blue illumination. With a growl, he heaved the woman off of him and went to the window. He fell against it rather than walking to it; the room was being tossed rudely by the waves.

It was storming outside. “Because of _course_ it is,” Logan growled, turning to assess the room. It was bare - it had been a prison cell and held nothing useful. He had left most of his weapons behind in his room; only his knife remained in his boot. His armor was back on the Bus, too. He had on his combat pants on but only a green t-shirt beside his boots.

His two best resources were lying on the floor, groaning. They had no weapons; Romanov wore her combat suit but Phil’s chest armor had been stripped off, leaving him in dress pants and a button-down shirt. Their skills and knowledge were all they were bringing to the table.

Logan stepped over to the bed and peered at the restraints on Coulson. The urgency of the situation overrode any fugues that might be starting, or perhaps that was done for now. Regardless, Logan was clear-headed as he bent over the other man and saw his restraints required a key. Drawing his knife, he reached for the first strap.

Slim fingers wrapped around his wrist and pinched the nerve cluster just below his thumb. His knife fell from numb fingers as Romanov twisted his arm higher. “Ow, stop it!” Logan fought against the pain and managed to ease the lock she had on him. “I’m trying to free him, you fucking maniac!”

Her fingers didn’t move. “I don’t trust a word you say.”

“Then trust this: this room will fill with water and sink, and we will all die if we don’t work together.” Logan met her gaze just as a crack of lightning illuminated the interior of the cell. It threw everything into bright contrast. Her green eyes were wide and uncertain, and for a second he was sure he’d die here because others couldn’t see the value of working together to save their lives. “Here, a peace offering.”

He twisted his hand slightly and caught one of the cuffs ringing her wrist. With a sharp twist, he fouled the locking mechanism and pulled open the restraint. He repeated it on her other arm, then looked at her. “We will die if we don’t work together.”

Those iron fingers released him and she pressed his knife back into his hand. “Hurry up. We’re already in an inch of water.”

Logan knelt and cut the bonds mostly through touch. “Coulson, are you awake?”

“I’m here.” The SHIELD agent sounded dazed and Logan reached out to cup his chin. Turning his head, Logan frowned at the gash across the man’s forehead. He helped Coulson stand and pulled the sheets off the bed, slicing a wide strip from it and cobbling together a hasty field bandage.

“We don’t have anything useful except the mattress.” Romanov leaned over Logan’s shoulder suddenly and he nearly stabbed her in reaction. “I think it’ll float.”

The urge to touch her filled him again. Logan pulled away from her. “You two make a harness to help us use the bed with what’s left of the sheets.”

Romanov quirked her eyebrow at him coolly. “I thought you might do that-”

_“What’s your game?”_

_“Chess.”_

“-since you have the knife.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He handed the knife to her hilt first. “I’m going to see about getting us out of here once you have our boat ready.”

She gave him a ghost of a smile at that, taking the weapon and joining Phil. The two of them bent over their task as Logan bitterly reflected that he would love to have Grant here now. He’d even take Ricochet, just to have someone on his side.

Shaking off the thoughts about how he wanted things, Logan focused on the door. It was likely to be the best exit point; most of the water gushing into the room was coming around its seal. As he peered out the window, he realized that the room had already sunk several feet into the ocean.

He glanced up and hopped up on the bed. Logan felt the two below him watching him closely as he pulled the tile out of the ceiling. Above the frame for the drop ceiling was a metal top. He’d need help to break through that but it would be better than opening the door and fighting through the water pressure.

He dropped off the bed and pulled one of the metal supports off the bed, then hopped back up on it and knocked out several more tiles. Drawing the pipe back, he used it like a spear to punch through the metal. The pipe bent on the third hole and he had to get another but he succeeding in creating a square of holes big enough for all of them.

Dropping the pipe, he grabbed the metal frame that had held the tiles. Using mostly his upper body strength and hoping the frame held, he curled his legs up and kicked against the weakened ceiling.

It came half loose, releasing a torrent of cold wind and colder rain into the cell. He kicked once more to finish the job. The frame gave out at the same time and he fell-

Right into Coulson’s arms. The man grunted heavily as Logan’s full weight slammed into him but he managed not to fall or drop the super soldier.

For a second, Logan struggled to get his bearings. Coulson’s warm breath blew across his neck, a marked improvement over the cold air and rain coming from the hole he’d made. “Thanks,” Logan said as he regained his balance. He wasn’t sure if they were fully allies yet but the catch had felt like a peace offering.

“You’re welcome.” Coulson’s tone was just as wary and uncertain.

“One of you boys wanna give me a boost?” Romanov looked from one to the other. The rain had already plastered her hair to her head and a tendril ran down her cheek and traced the edge of her chin. Logan felt the urge to brush it back, just to indulge that ridiculous desire to touch her.

Coulson stepped around Logan and offered her cupped hands. She stepped in and he straightened, and she went right through the hole. A second later, she was leaning back in, her hand extended. Coulson looked at Logan. “I’m not going to be as graceful, so not so fast.”

“Understood.” Logan made a stirrup with his fingers, gripping the foot Coulson put in it. The SHIELD agent braced his hands on Logan’s shoulder; when Logan lifted, Coulson transferred one hand to Romanov.

Logan was careful not to raise Coulson faster than he could handle it. No point in damaging his allies while he might need them. Once the enemy agent was through, Logan passed up the mattress. “Get us some of those pipes, too,” Romanov said as she poked her head back in the hole, pointing at the one he’d discarded.

“Why?” Logan passed the pipe up and got her another one from the bed.

“Because we have one knife between us.” Romanov gave him that playful grin again. “A girl needs to be armed in these dangerous times.”

“That’s not comforting to me,” Logan said wryly, trying to make a joke of it. They couldn’t hurt him with those poles, not unless they caught him off guard and then he let them attack him for several hours. _Maybe not that long_ , he mentally amended as he passed up a really sharp pole. It still wouldn’t make a difference if they tried to jump him.

 _These mortals are so weak_. As he jumped and caught their hands, pulling himself up, Logan failed to notice the aberrant thought. He had more immediate problems anyway.

On the top of the cell, Logan got a better idea of their plight. Stormy water surrendered them on all sides; there wasn’t a light anywhere in sight. Romanov and Coulson huddled together clutching the mattress. It didn’t look like much against the might of the Southern Indian Ocean.

Drawing a deep breath, he crouched with the two SHIELD agents. “As one,” he said. The other two nodded and he counted, “One. Two. Three!”

Together, they jumped into the raging sea.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from Hawkeye's actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am late, I know. Sorry! I'll work to make sure it doesn't happen again. :)

“I should fucking kill you.” Garrett glared at Barton. He wasn’t the only one glowering at him but he was the one Clint was worried about snapping.

“You should thank me.” Clint tried to project an air of confidence. He hadn’t actually planned to dump Loki, Natasha, and Coulson into the ocean but when he’d seen the opportunity, he taken it. “Loki was a fucking time bomb. He was going to blow.”

“You have set back the plan.” Garrett pulled his gun and Clint tensed, prepared to move. The archer put his finger on the latch that would unfold his bow. “For that alone, I should blow your head off.”

“John, I don’t know that losing yet another operative is the right way to proceed.” Ricochet smiled coldly at Clint even as she interceded for him.

Garrett sighted down the barrel at him for a tense moment before nodding. “You’re right. Annabelle, that’s right.” He put the gun away and everyone relaxed. “I’ll come up with another punishment for you later, Barton.”

“Fine. You all still know I did the right thing.” Clint moved his finger but kept himself ready. He was going to have to be careful for a few weeks until everyone had calmed down.

“Do you really think they’re dead?” Ward glared at him. “I’ve fought with Coulson. Romanov is a legend, and Logan is an Asgardian with the knowledge of a HYDRA operative in his brain. The chances that you’ve killed them is right around zero percent.” The man shoved himself off the wall and stalked toward the door.

“I’m going to start going through our personnel files to see if I can mitigate this disaster,” Garrett announced before leaving. McCulloch followed, just shaking his head at Clint.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re right.” Ricochet smiled at him and Clint had the feeling that she was really paying attention to him for the first time. “I just wished I’d gotten to fuck him before you did that.”

Clint smiled drily. “I’ll keep your vagina in mind in the future.”

“Good.” She grinned wickedly and left the room.

“That went well.” His voice was loud in the empty room and Clint rose to go help John. Maybe finding some more recruits would get him off Garrett’s shit list.

 

*  *  *

 

Natasha knew how hours could stretch out when there was no way to keep track of them. In the midst of discomfort and fear, they seemed even longer.

The storm beat down on them and she wondered if they were making any progress at all. Without navigation or any points to orient herself on, there was no way to tell speed or direction.

She was soaked to the bone and each blast of wind felt like an icy knife. Her legs, trailing in the water, felt warmer but she knew that was a lie. Her legs were just numb.

Fingers tapped her shoulder and she opened her eyes to see Phil’s worried gaze. “Switch?” he yelled over the fury of the storm.

Natasha shook her head. Phil hadn’t been in the warm spot in the middle long enough; in truth, there was no long enough anymore. They wouldn’t be truly warm until they were dry. Only Loki remained warmer than the air around them as his stubborn Asgardian physiology held off hypothermia as ardently as any other ills of the flesh.

Phil frowned at her but Natasha closed her eyes. _God, what I wouldn’t give for a nap-_

A sudden jostle on the mattress dragged her weary eyes open. Loki lay between her and Phil, adjusting the straps that kept them on the tossing floatation device. He looped a lightly muscled arm over her and pulled her against his side. Immediately her skin craved the touch of his warmth. “Sleep,” he murmured in her ear.

Coulson threw an arm over Loki’s back and grabbed her shoulder, tangling his hands in the strips of bedding that criss-crossed her back. In response, she reached over the godling and slid her hand under Phil’s belt.

“Sleep.” Loki’s order was more insistent. Natasha stopped fighting. She curled against the warm godling and let herself drift away. At first she dozed lightly, aware of the storm and the warm monster at her side. She didn’t mean to actually sleep but exhaustion took its toll.

A sharp crack of thunder woke her just before Loki screamed her name. “Romanov! Coulson!” The Asgardian’s hands were wrapped around her head, pulling her skull under his body. She had a split-second to see before she was pressed against a sodden mattress but in that short time, she had glimpsed something big directly ahead. The mattress crested a wave and shot them down the slope of water, and Natasha felt Loki brace himself.

The godling took the worst of the impact. Natasha still felt the blow, even cushioned under his tough body. The mattress buckled and twisted violently and she was torn away from the two men and tossed into the air. Cold seawater swallowed her whole; only her training prevented her from panicking and inhaling liquid.

She swam upward, gulping a deep lungful of air the second her head cleared the water. Panting, she turned in place, peering through the black night and tossing waves for the mattress or either - hopefully both - of her companions. A flash of something caught her eye and with nothing else to go on, she swam toward it.

Phil bobbed on the waves, fighting with something in the water. When Natasha got closer, she saw that the SHIELD agent was fighting to keep Loki’s head above the water without going under himself. Grabbing Loki’s shirt, she helped stabilize the heavy godling long enough for Phil to get his arms under Loki’s. Leaning back, he kept both of their faces above water.

“What did we hit?” Phil shouted to her.

“I don’t know! It’s big, maybe a boat!” Natasha tread water next to the two men, peering into the dark.

“We need to get out of the water! Loki’s bleeding!” Phil sounded worried for the Asgardian. Natasha understood, though: when you assessed their situation with the cold, hard facts, their chances of survival went up with the godling’s greater strength and stamina. Assuming that he didn’t kill them first.

The darkness remained unyielding and though Natasha sensed that they were close to the big object, she couldn’t see it. It took several minutes of fruitless searching before a series of lightning flashes gave her some visibility.

The object to their right was a black wall or cliff. She hadn’t been able to tell if it was man-made though she suspected it was. The walls had been far too smooth for natural rock, even if it were beaten by the waves. As the flashes continued, she looked in all directions. In the last burst of light, she saw something close to the water not far away. Natasha grabbed Phil’s shoulder and pointed but by that time it was gone.

His trust in her was complete and just that gesture was enough for him to turn himself in the water and start to drag Loki toward whatever she’d seen. Natasha hoped it was something helpful as she swam slowly next to Phil, aiding him where she could.

The thing she’d seen was a black metal platform. Natasha could have cried with relief but there was no time for that. The hunk of metal was a little larger than a king bed and hung two feet over the sea. Whomever had built it had included a ladder and Natasha gratefully scrambled out of the water.

When she looked back, neither man could be seen. Phil surfaced with a sputter, drawing Loki up higher. He pulled himself to the ladder and hung off it with one arm for a moment. Natasha lay down and touched his face. “I’m okay!” Phil’s yell didn’t allay her fears for him. She couldn’t see his face but the movements of his body indicated that he had exhausted almost all of his reserves.

After a moment, he nodded to her and she changed her position on the metal dock. When Phil heaved Loki’s unconscious body out of the water, she grabbed the mind washed alien’s arm and pulled him higher. Phil climbed halfway out of the water while she strained to keep the progress they’d made. Then he lifted higher while she pulled and the godling rose another half-foot.

Finally, her heave wasn’t stopped by her muscles failing against gravity but with Loki falling across her legs. Natasha grabbed his belt just in case he started to roll back in but he didn’t shift.

Phil grabbed him by the belt and dragged the godling off of her. The two humans collapsed on either side of Loki, who was still warmer than either of them. Without a word, they huddled against the Asgardian, even as the storm still raged.

“I touched bottom.” Phil’s statement brought Natasha’s head up and she stared blearily at the dark blur that was her friend. “I slipped off the ladder on the first lift and my foot touched bottom. It’s over six foot but I touched bottom.”

That news revived Natasha more than finding the platform. They were close to land of some kind, and land meant people. More importantly, it meant warmth, food, and a phone. It would be a lot easier for Thor to collect his brother if Loki was knocked out.

 _Speaking of. . ._ He was still unconscious and that was never a good sign. Natasha wasn’t sure if he was sleeping or a sign of his brain in shut-down. She stripped off her jacket and sacrificed her undershirt to make a bandage for him. Phil helped her once he saw what she was doing, stopping the slow leak of blood still coming from the limp man’s head.

Natasha pulled her jacket back and on went to see what she could learn about their position. Feeling the edges of the platform, she found a metal staircase. Moving carefully back to Phil, she cuddled up to the warm godling again, resting her chin on his neck. The intimate position might have been uncomfortable had she let it bother her. Under the circumstances, the warmth from the prone man was divine. Phil lifted his head as she settled in and she was able to be heard without screaming. “There are stairs. Do we leave him and come back?”

Phil groaned audibly and dropped his head, his forehead pressing into Loki’s buzz cut. “No. We don’t know if there are hostiles here.”

“That means we have to carry him.” Natasha sighed as she thought about how tall that barrier had been. A high wave crested the platform, shoving them back toward the wall and re-drenching their clothing. They clearly couldn’t stay here. “I can carry him if you get him on my back.”

Phil lifted his head, spitting water. “Are you sure?”

“You swam him over. My turn to do the heavy lifting.” In truth, she wasn’t sure how long she could carry him but they had to move. Phil was in worse shape; she hadn’t been knocked unconscious by Loki in the first assault or had a seizure.

It took both of them to get the man up on her back, like a child riding piggyback. He was too big for a fireman’s hold and probably would have torn her shoulder off with his weight had she tried. Natasha grabbed his thighs and locked her arms to hold him. Phil used a strip of cloth from something to tie Loki’s arms in place, securing him around her torso. Gritting her teeth with effort, she started to climb.

Without her hands free for the handrail, she had to feel her way up with her feet. The Avenger almost fell when she reached the first landing; she’d been expecting a step.

“You rest.” Away from the roar of the ocean, Phil didn’t have to scream at her. “I’ll find the way up.”

Natasha nodded and leaned against the railing wearily, too tired to argue. Although they were away from the water, the wind was picking up and she wondered how long before she’d be blown off balance by it. _At least I’m warm_ , she thought wryly. With the exertion of climbing and the living furnace on her back, there was no way she could be cold.

“This way.” Phil caught her by the arm and led her to the next staircase. Natasha became aware that he was helping her by taking some of Loki’s weight but she was too tired to argue.

The trip became a nightmare of pain and fatigue. Natasha kept her head down and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Phil stopped her or changed her course periodically, and she followed his directions blindly. She found the pattern of the stairs; there were twenty-three steps, then a landing, and then she went six steps to the left and climbed twenty-three steps.

Then Phil turned her to the right instead of the left. The wind cut at them harder and when Natasha looked around, she couldn’t see the bulk of the wall anymore. They were at the top.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil finds temporary shelter.

_I’ll sleep for a week._ Phil made the promise to himself again as he went up the next flight of stairs, doing what he could to help Tasha. How she’d done this for so long, he didn’t know. He trusted that she’d tell him when she needed a break. _Or maybe the damned Russians don’t know when to stop._

The wind shoved him a new direction and he caught himself against the railing. The unexpected gust was welcome when he saw that they had reached the top.

Tasha kept walking, turning as if there were more stairs. Phil caught her arm and reoriented her. He saw her look around but without any real change in expression. She’d pushed herself to the edge of exhaustion.

There was more light up here; either the storm was abating or dawn was coming. Not only could he see Tasha’s expression but he could see that there was no shelter on top of this wall. The ground was too even for a natural surface.

“Wait here.” Phil made sure Tasha understood before he hurried forward, trying to find somewhere for them to rest. Twenty feet from the edge, he found a trench cut into the ground. It was completely square, about three foot deep and went right and left as far as he could see. Most importantly, it was out of the wind.

He led Tasha back to the trench and helped her climb down. Together, they got Loki off her back and into the pit. Tasha dropped to her side next to the injured godling, pulling Phil down with her. “Your hands are ice. In the middle,” she muttered, pushing him back against Loki’s chest and putting one of the godling’s limp arms over Phil. Before he could protest, she burrowed into his arms and fell asleep instantly.

 _He killed me._ The thoughts seemed far away as a cocoon of warmth invaded his chilled body. Phil wasn’t sure could relax enough to sleep, not when he was practically in the arms of his murderer, but the last thought he remembered before falling asleep was, _Tasha is right - this **is** warm._

Waking up was a singularly unpleasant experience. Phil had to pee, and he had an erection, and the man behind him had one, and the sun was splitting his skull in half. Stifling a groan, he glanced down at Natasha to find her still sleeping, curled against his chest with his shirt balled up in her fists.

Phil looked over his shoulder to find Loki plastered against his back. Natasha’s white undershirt was stained with dried blood but he didn’t see any fresh blood seeping from the Asgardian’s head. The arm flung over him was like an iron band and Phil felt bizarrely like he was being claimed by the outsider. _Yep, enough of that._ Phil grabbed Loki’s wrist so he could lift it clear of his body.

His only warning was the sudden tension in Loki’s arm. Before Phil could say anything, he found himself rolled violently onto his back with Loki pinning him to the floor of the trench. The godling’s green eyes were unfocused but his hand clamped down perfectly on Phil’s windpipe. The agent couldn’t breathe as he clawed futility at the hands choking him. For a terrifying second, he thought he would die a second time at Loki’s hands.

Natasha came awake at the sudden violence around her. “Loki! Stop! We saved your life!” The pressure on Phil’s throat eased slightly. The woman dared to touch Loki’s arm, like a trainer soothing a spooked horse. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”

The Asgardian sat up and released Phil’s throat. As the SHIELD agent struggled to get in enough air, the dangerous man hissed, “My name. Is not. _Loki!_ ”

Natasha bent over Phil, assessing him with her eyes before turning back to Loki. “What should we call you then?”

“You know damned well my name is Logan O’Dell!” Loki all-but screamed it at her as he stood up shakily, gripping the edge of the trench for support. Phil scrambled away from him and pulled himself up on the other side of the artificial ditch.

Her voice was soothing as Tasha asked, “So you want us to call you Logan?”

Loki glared at her. “You are testing my patience, Romanov.”

“I want it to be clear that _you_ are insisting we call you Logan. Or O’Dell. Whichever.” Natasha didn’t respond to his anger and Phil admired her brains once again. When “Logan” regained his memory, he and Natasha could maintain that they’d never lied to him about his identity, that they’d called him exactly what he’d demanded they call him.

Loki stared at her, his eyes narrowing. Phil watched tensely as the powerful being mulled over Natasha’s words. “Logan,” he finally told her.

Natasha actually smiled, which was more than Phil could manage right now. “Then call me Natasha.”

The other two looked at him. Natasha’s expression asked him to follow her lead. “Phil.” He rubbed his throat and glared at the Asgardian.

Loki nodded in acknowledgement of their names before he looked around, his green eyes turning confused. “Where are we?”

“We don’t know. We barely got you out of the water last night.” Natasha took a step closer. “How’s your head?”

“It hurts. There was a seawall, and I bounced my skull off of it.” Loki pulled off the bandage and dropped it, his fingers probing at the wound.

“Let me.” Natasha stopped when he glared at her but she didn’t withdraw. “I can look at it easier than you.”

The Asgardian nodded reluctantly and let her come close. As Natasha took a look at their “friend”, Phil assessed at their surroundings in daylight. The black metal stretched left and right, moving in a curve. At this point, it was five hundred feet wide and more than a mile long. It was already hot up here as the dark surface absorbed all the heat. He didn’t see an opening of any kind into the structure.

“You look like you’re healing.” Natasha stepped away from Loki, picking up and pocketing her undershirt. She glanced at Phil. “See anything?”

“No, but this facility is built around something.” Phil pointed to the inner curve of the structure. “I want to see what it is.”

There wasn’t anything better to suggest, even if they had wanted to argue with him. The three of them walked across to the edge. At the edge, Phil felt himself smile. “That’s better.”

The structure stretched in a ‘U’ shape around a small outcropping of rock. Nestled inside the shelter of the man-made facility was a wide golden beach. Even from here, Phil could see the fish in the blue water, as well as signs of crustaceans in the sand. Birds flitted around the cove. Green plants, flowers, and even a few small trees grew stubbornly despite the lack of good soil.

“Look.” Loki pointed to their right, revealing stairs down.

“Let’s go see paradise,” Phil laughed, feeling his spirits lighten. They had food, at the minimum. They could rig a shelter. All they needed was potable water.

As they descended, the SHIELD agent took another look at the wall. It wasn’t welded together but appeared to be a single piece of metal. He tapped it once to confirm that it had a metallic ring but beyond “metal”, he had no idea what it was made of.

The sand was warm but cool in comparison to the black cliff they’d just left. Though Phil was eager to see the circumstances of their new home, he turned back toward the dark structure the second his feet had left it. Aside from the ladder with its landings, there was only one other break in the endless wall: a recessed door.

The other two had seen it as well. As one, they moved to the entrance, looking for a way inside. It was a round door of some kind but there were no marks, latches, or identifying features on it. Loki stepped forward and pressed on the door, then tried to push it to one side. It didn’t budge. “Damn it.” The Asgardian stepped back, his green eyes narrowed.

“I don’t think this is human in origin.” Natasha spoke softly but her announcement seemed to ring in the air.

Phil wondered if there was another blue alien inside this thing; when he felt his fingers start to twitch, he turned away quickly. “Let’s worry about getting inside after we have the necessities covered.”

“I’ll find water,” Tasha volunteered. Phil smiled at her, thankful for her support in that simple statement.

“Yes.” Loki seemed preoccupied with the door but after a long moment, he turned away. “I’ll build a shelter.”

“I’ll get some food.” Relieved that everyone, particularly the unpredictable Loki, was cooperating, Phil turned toward the ocean and started to review his survival training. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be out here for long.

The question was, who would find them first: SHIELD or HYDRA?


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan does his part to survive - while checking out Phil's legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have over a thousand hits on Redemption now. Thanks to everyone for reading.
> 
> On a personal note, my sister is very sick and in the hospital. I don't expect to stop Sunday updates but if they do, you'll know that life has gotten crazy. For now, things are manageable and should continue to be but things can change quickly. 
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy the story!

Logan bit back a curse as the vine failed to hold the driftwood branches together. Reminding himself to be patient, he tried the other fibrous vine. He was asking a lot of the plant, he could admit. He was trying to make a triangle of branches wedged in crevices of the natural rock. There was a ledge here, slightly slanted so that it drained and big enough for all three of them to sleep in there.

Logan glanced up to see Coulson bending over the V of stones he’d set up this morning. When the tide receded, there should be fish caught by the rocks. The man had stripped out of his dress shirt and given it to Romanov - _Natasha_ , he reminded himself. Phil had also shed his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants legs. Logan had expected him to have pasty white legs but a hint of color suggested that the SHIELD agent saw some time outdoors. _We’ll all have better tans if we don’t get out of here soon._

Pulling his gaze away, he focused his efforts on the shelter again. He wound his secondary vine choice around the branches, making the bindings twice as thick as his previous attempt. It held as he arranged the branches over the ledge but he could see it fraying with every movement and bump. “Damn,” he muttered, annoyed that he wouldn’t be able to construct the shelter the way he wanted.

His motions brisk with irritation, he stripped the vines off the wood supports. He’d have to go with the simpler shelter, which wouldn’t leave as much room for the three of them. Logan ignored the blush that crept on his face again as he recalled how he’d woken up, hugging another man close.

He didn’t want to think about that. He certainly didn’t want to think about the feelings it had awoken in him.

 _You’ve never shared a bed with someone before._ This was the third repeat of his little pep talk but it didn’t seem to be doing any good. _It’s normal to feel aroused when pressed against another body._

Oddly, he didn’t feel weird about it being a man. HYDRA was as homophobic as any military, which was to say you didn’t admit to being gay if you were. Also, if you had to seduce a mark that was the same sex as you, no one teased you about it. That happened from time to time, and no one wanted to be heckled when it was their turn.

Logan had never felt much of a draw to anyone, man or woman. Now, not only had it happened, his body had responded that way to someone he didn’t like outside of a mission scenario. It made him feel like his own sex drive was out of control. He’d been proud that he wasn’t as easily distracted by a tight ass or big rack like other men. He was watching Phil again and pulled his eyes away with effort.

The wooden support structures went into place as he worked on autopilot. His gaze was drawn further down the beach, where Natasha was cleaning out three plastic bottles she’d found in a tangle of driftwood and trash. Logan would freely admit that pollution was bad but today he was grateful that someone had chosen to dump their trash in the ocean. He paused to watch her as she used Phil’s shirt to clean the plastic. They didn’t have anything to sanitize with and Logan was concerned. There was nothing he could do about it and it was far more dangerous to his companions than him anyway.

He found himself worrying about them.

 _It’s false intimacy caused by the situation._ They’d been thrown into danger together by a common enemy; they had saved his life as surely as he had saved theirs. They’d slept huddled together. Logan knew that all of this could force emotional bonds and he hoped that knowledge of that would stop it from happening.

Growling at his errant thoughts, he shook them off and focused on completing the shelter. With the branches in place, it was easy to lash leaves to the frame to hold off any rain. Stepping back, he studied his workmanship. _Not perfect, but it’ll do._

_It’ll do to keep you close to Coulson._

His ears burned at the thought and he irritably turned to the next project: fire. This one was a little harder, though building a fire pit near the shelter was as simple as arranging rocks. He gathered wood of various sizes and some dried out plants that served as tinder. Then he bent to the onerous task of starting the fire without aid.

Without a bow, he had to do it by hand, spinning the spindle between his hands. Granted, he was better at it than any of his HYDRA companions had been but it didn’t make it more fun. Soon he was sweating freely from his efforts but there was a little trickle of smoke rising from his tinder nest. He quickly blew on it, spreading the sparks into small flames and feeding the fire larger and larger pieces of wood.

When he finally sat back to admire his work, he realized he wasn’t alone. Logan spun and was halfway on his feet before he realized it was Natasha. “Not many people can sneak up on me,” he admitted, trying to pretend like he hadn’t been going for his knife.

Something flickered across her face and was gone before he could interpret it. “Here’s your bottle.” She handed him a dented plastic bottle filled with three inches of water.

There was no cap and he cautiously sniffed the water. “Not much,” he casually observed.

“It’s what I could get off of the leaves.” Natasha sat down crosslegged, staring into the fire. “I used a plastic bag to make a water catch, so we should have more in the morning or if it rains.”

Logan peered up at the cloudless sky but didn’t express his doubts about that, nor did he point out that this was not the season for storms in this area. “Good thinking.” He spared her a smile; the one he got back made him think of books and chess.

“Thank you.” Natasha’s remark startled him; when he met her gaze, he saw an intense and profound gratitude there.

“For?”

“Saving Phil and I.” Her green eyes didn’t waver like Phil’s did when they locked gazes. “You didn’t have to.”

“Had I not, I’d likely be dead myself.” Logan hesitated before opening a touchy subject. “If SHIELD comes, will you let me go?”

“I don’t work for SHIELD anymore.” Her smile turned secretive. “I’m an Avenger.”

He leaned closer. “If they come, will you let me go?”

“Will you let me go if HYDRA comes?” she asked.

Logan opened his mouth to lie, to assure her that of course he would but found the words sticking in his throat. He flashed back to the last meeting he’d had with his colleagues. _“I concur. This is very, very wrong.”_ If HYDRA caught her, they’d wipe her. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to release her, either. “I don’t know,” he told her.

“When you have your answer, I’ll have mine.” Natasha gave him that maddening, knowing smile again and stood. He watched her walk over to Phil. At this distance, their conversation should have been private but he had better hearing than they did.

“Hey,” she said and by that greeting alone Logan guessed they were lovers.

“Hi.” Phil straightened from his rock cage, looking at Natasha like she was all that mattered in the world. Logan swallowed back an unexpected ping of jealousy. The super-soldier told himself that it was because he’d never had anyone look at him like that.

“How’s the great hunt coming?” Natasha asked, handing Phil his water.

“Thanks.” The man took a small sip before answering. “We’ll have fish tonight.”

The Avenger gave a soft chuckle. “We’ll have fish every night.” She took a step closer to him. “I see you lost your tie.”

“I didn’t.” Phil dug it out of his pocket and showed it to her. “I took it off to tie Loki to your back last night.” Logan couldn’t see her face but he saw the slight disbelief on Phil’s. “Oh, don’t tell me that excites you.”

“No, not at all.” Her tone had turned wry; Logan could imagine the playful smile that came with those words. “My man tying up another man with his tie? Nothing erotic about that at all.” Just the heated tone in her purr made Logan’s stomach clench in sudden lust.

Phil glanced at Logan quickly; when he saw the man watching them, he leaned back from Natasha. “Only out of context, Tasha.”

“Almost everything is more fun out of context.” She took a step back. “I’m going to search through the other driftwood piles for anything useful.”

Phil watched her go before he went back to gathering food. Logan pushed himself to his feet. He should go find something to soften their bed. He didn’t mind sleeping on stone but he would prefer not to if he didn’t have to.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha notes some interesting changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I've started to add short chapter summaries.

As deserted islands went, Natasha had been in worse situations. The night was warm and there were minimal bugs. The fish that Phil had caught earlier were roasting over the fire, they had some water to drink, and Loki could build a serviceable shelter. She’d been stuck in survival scenarios with far less competent companions.

“So, Logan, where do you come from?” Phil innocuous question drew a sharp glance from her but she immediately softened it. Her friend was testing Loki’s memory. It could backfire on them but Natasha confessed to being curious as well.

“London.” The answer came easily and there were no signs of distress. “Grew up in a project, joined the army, and was recruited to HYDRA after. You?”

“I was recruited by SHIELD out of a pool of CIA hopefuls.” Phil smiled thinly. “Turns out that SHIELD gets first dibs on applicants for government jobs.”

“That’s surely not how you joined, Natasha,” Logan replied, looking across the fire to her.

“No, I was working for another party when I was recruited by Barton and Phil.” Natasha felt her chest catch, just as it always did when those old memories were dragged to the surface.

Loki tilted his head. “That sounds interesting.”

Natasha stiffened at the implied question. “I thought Barton had told all my secrets to you.”

Loki snorted. “Not me. Barton was the one who put me here. It’s safe to say we don’t get along.”

“Why?” Natasha wondered if it had something to do with being shot in the eye by Barton.

“I think he’s jealous, since I got one of the few successful batches of super soldier serum in the modern era.” Loki leaned back and tucked his hands behind his head, looking nothing like the man who’d tried to invade New York. Natasha doubted that tyrant would let two mortals see him with dirty, broken fingernails and blood caked at his hairline.

“Ah.” Phil nodded and was quiet for a long moment. “This fire needs a beer.”

“If we’re wishing, how about a steak?” Loki added with a chuckle.

“I’ll take a charged satphone, thanks.” Natasha grinned at the men, enjoying their expressions after her witty retort.

Phil reached forward and tested the fish, then handed one of the speared carcasses to her. The second went to Loki, and he claimed the last. “To a delicious dinner,” he said, toasting with the fish.

“To not having to eat bugs,” Loki said, raising his own fish.

Natasha laughed at their silliness, even if she knew this was the only way they’d survive without killing one another. _We might still kill each other_ , she mused as she nibbled on her dinner. The flesh of the fish was light and flaky, if a little dry. “My compliments to the chef.” Natasha smiled at Phil, watching the way that the fire painted his skin with gold. His answering expression made her wish they were alone and could finish what they had started in her apartment.

“Do I need to take a walk down the beach?” Loki’s smirk would have been teasing if they had been better friends. As it was now, it was annoying. Worse, it was the most Loki-ish thing she’d seen from him yet. Was the psychotic godling’s personality coming back now that he was away from HYDRA? As horrifying as the brainwashing was, Natasha didn’t think Loki would be nearly as accommodating as Logan was.

“No.” Natasha let her annoyance show in the single word.

Loki laughed, a chillingly familiar sound. “It’s not a problem, I swear.”

Natasha could see it was a problem, though she couldn’t say why. His words were right but his body language spoke of jealousy and anger, and his tone had contained a caustic undertone. “It’s fine. I think Phil and I can contain ourselves.”

“I’ve been saying ‘no’ for years. A few more days won’t matter.” Phil spoke more to his fish than to her. Natasha glared at him and he lowered the meal. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out-”

Loki’s eyes widened as he grinned mischievously. “You guys haven’t had sex yet.”

“Not yet.” Phil attempted to be casual about the topic. Natasha thought the tension in his voice was sexual deprivation until he said, “Sex isn’t the most important part of a relationship anyway. It’s only part of intimacy.” His blue eyes locked with hers and she felt a shiver of desire.

_“What do you want from me?”_

_“Everything.”_

Natasha didn’t stop the heated look she gave Phil. “You two are killing me.” Loki rose restlessly and headed for the water. He stopped before reaching the edge, his lean form a dark shadow against the moon-silvered sea.

“Think he feels like a third wheel?” Phil asked when he was out of earshot.

“I don’t know.” Natasha took a bite of fish thoughtfully. “I do know that he really believes he’s Logan, Agent of HYDRA.”

“Yeah, and that’s creepy.” Phil watched as Loki finished the fish and tossed the stick and bones into the water. “When he cracks, it’ll be bad.”

“Not if we help him through it.” Natasha hadn’t been aware she’d been considering it seriously until she spoke. Phil’s expression became incredulous. “I know, Phil. If that break is coming, we will be in a position to help him.”

“We’ll have to if we want to survive it.” Phil shook his head, frowning.

“To help him survive, too.” Natasha glanced at him. “Thor’s my friend and he still loves his brother.”

“Alright.” Phil sighed but wasn’t upset. “The things you talk me into.”

Natasha leaned over and kissed Phil lightly. Tossing her bones and stick into the fire, she rose and walked toward Loki. She didn’t want to startle him, so she called, “Hey, Logan.”

He turned, the distant fire giving her just enough light to see his mocking expression. “That was fast.”

“Relax, nothing happened.” Natasha moved to his side and looked out over the ocean. “We’ll try not to do that anymore.”

Loki turned with her, his head tilted. “Why?”

“Because two people having sex and leaving the third person out is rude, at best.” Natasha smiled at him before turning her gaze out toward the ocean. “Besides, I think you want my boyfriend.”

The choked sound from the other man made her smile. After a long moment, he said, “I’m not . . . Fuck. You noticed.”

“Phil didn’t, if you’re worried.” Natasha’s foot bumped something and she bent down to dig a shell out of the sand.

“But you’re not.” When she glanced up, Loki had the most adorable look of suspicion on his face. “Why are you not worried?”

“I trust Phil. If he wants to have sex with you, he’ll tell me. We’ll talk.” Natasha stepped out into surf and washed the sand off the shell, wondering if it was a pretty one. “In my business, you learn that sex and love are not the same thing.”

When the godling spoke, he was so soft Natasha almost missed what he said. “If I loved him, that would be different?”

Natasha swallowed her surprise at the question - that was the _last_ thing she’d expected from Loki. “Very.” She stood up and faced him, feeling the waves wash back and forth over her bare toes while she struggled with a response. “We’ve been through some traumatic events. That can create deep bonds. _Do_ you love my boyfriend?”

“No.” His response was quick and almost sad. “I’m envious-” He cleared his throat. “He thinks I killed him so I’m not sure love’s in the equation.”

Natasha smiled. “Phil was going to kill me when we first met. Got as far as putting the gun to my head.” Loki blinked at her. “If you want to hear his story, then ask him. But Logan - be sure you’re ready to hear his story, and not just blow him off. He deserves better than that.”

She left the Invader of New York standing in the sand, mulling over death and love. There were worse ways to spend an evening on the beach.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shark becomes involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late but that might become normal for me. My sister is sick with cancer and sometimes needs my help with childcare or her health. I will try to keep to my Sunday updates. 
> 
> These two posts were short and related so you get both. Enjoy!

The water reflected the sun into his eyes as Phil emptied and filled his lungs rapidly. When his lungs felt almost painfully full of air, he ducked under the water and kicked downward. The saltwater stung his eyes but he ignored that to focus on his goal: the leafy fronds of seaweed growing below. Natasha had found the colony four days ago and they’d been carefully harvesting it since.

Selecting a plant they hadn’t touched yet, he quickly stripped off leaves, racing against his body’s need for oxygen while trying to not take too much greenery. The harvested fronds                                                                                                               were shoved into a basket that floated from the rough rope tied to his waist. Made from a mixture of sticks and some of the grass-like seaweed that hadn’t proven edible, the crude container was his masterpiece. It was a sad, horrid looking monstrosity but it was bowl-like and held together, making it the best of his attempts. Natasha’s were even worse and Logan’s single success was more like a stiff net than a basket.

It was the attempts that were important, rather than the end result. Phil told himself that every time something didn’t work as planned. They needed things they didn’t have and they struggled together to find them or make something that worked. The week on the island had been a tough reminder of how easy modern life was.

His lungs were screaming for air and Phil turned and kicked sharply upward. His fingers ached, raw from fighting with the tough water plants, and his shoulders hurt from struggling under the water. It would have been easier to harvest entire plants and drag them up to the surface but they had agreed to be conservative with their use of this resource. Even if they had decided to harvest that way, he couldn’t sever their hard stalks by hand. The knife was out in deeper water with Logan, who was using it to harvest oysters. In a toss-up between oysters and seaweed, Phil was happy to give Loki the edge in securing the crustaceans for dinner. Oysters tasted a lot better than the seaweed.

His head broke the surface and Phil gasped in a deep breath of air. The basket bumped against his knees as he squinted toward shore, where Natasha was drying out the seaweed. When moist, they had the texture of slime and a taste like grass. Dried out, they went down like fragile paper and tasted far blander. Between the two states, dried was preferred. If they could have gotten away without them, they would have but they needed more than just fish and the occasional feast of crustacean.

Natasha wasn’t alone and Phil stiffened in worry. Loki sat on the beach near her, bent over a pile of oysters. They were chatting calmly enough but Phil studied Tasha’s body language. When he saw she wasn’t alarmed or afraid, he relaxed.

A quick check of the basket showed he needed to make at least three more dives. His arms hurt just thinking about it but he had no option. There was no McDonalds out here for quick, hot food; no grocery store for staples. They could eat only if they wrestled it from the ocean.

Filling his lungs again, Phil started to dive, only to abort the attempt when he heard Tasha’s laughter. He didn’t hesitate because she sounded in danger - quite the opposite. Phil couldn’t quite suppress the uneasy jealousy that tightened his gut. Irritated at himself for having such a juvenile reaction, he took another breath and dove again.

His anger lent him strength and he stayed under the water longer than normal, stripping more leaves than in his previous trips. There were black spots in his vision when he finally came back up for air. Unfortunately, he surfaced to the sound of _both_ of them laughing.

_He killed me!_ The thought didn’t bring the shakes for once; the resentment in the thought boiled away the normal stress of that statement. Phil checked his basket and decided that he did have enough leaves.

A second later, he stopped those thoughts. He wasn’t going to be that stupid guy who freaked out because his hot girlfriend could have conversations with friends. Or guys she was trapped on a strange island with.

_I trust her._ The mental declaration brought some peace. Taking another deep breath, he went down into the water one more time, stretching himself to harvest the last of the needed kelp. He surfaced and sucked in fresh air - and something bumped his leg.

Alarm tingled through his nerves as Phil looked down. A sleek gray shape darted past him in the water, a form well known to anyone who had watched _Jaws._ This shark was not the monster from the horror film but it could kill him nonetheless.

Phil pulled in a lungful of air and dunked under the water so he could see what kind of shark it was. As the predator swam away, he pulled the basket in close. It was a pitiful weapon but all that he had. He could swim for shore but he would never make it. The shark turned sharply, giving him a look at the short face and flat nose. _Bull shark._ That species was the worst of the bump-and-bite offenders, using touch to determine whether to attack.

It came at him in a rush, little more than an open mouth with more teeth than Phil had ever seen outside of a nightmare. He held the basket in front of himself and waited. The charge seemed to take forever but it was mere seconds and he barely got the basket into the mouth in time. The impact hit him in the chest and shoved him sharply backwards in the water.

The basket caught in the teeth, wedging the mouth open. The shark jerked to the left, toward deeper water and the tether around Phil’s waist jerked him after it. The resistance brought the shark’s head around once more and Phil knew he needed to get loose.

It charged again and Phil readied himself. His instinct was insane but he still did it. Fixing his fingers into a point, Phil stabbed at the emotionless black eye. It wasn’t going to work, he _knew_ that it was pure desperation. Yet it did; his fingers sunk into the slime and gore of the socket. He curled his fingers as it jerked away from him, doing the most destruction that he could.

The basket was still wedged in its mouth and he grabbed the cord. With a sharp jerk, he wrenched its head around again but the basket had taken enough abuse and the cord sheared off it. The shark wheeled away from him and headed for deeper water.

Phil had the urge to chase it down but he restrained himself. _I am getting too in touch with my primitive man_. His lungs burned and he kicked back to the surface.

He hauled in a deep breath and turned toward shore. To his surprise, Loki was stroking toward him, swimming as only a god-like being could. “You okay?” the Asgardian yelled when close.

“Yes, unless that shark comes back!” Phil started toward the beach; he’d had enough of the water today.

Loki’s green eyes widened before he took a breath and shot under the surface of the water. Phil didn’t wait for him. Loki could take care of himself. Despite Phil’s head start toward the beach, Loki caught back up to him anyway. “I think it’s gone,” Loki reported. He moved beside the agent, swimming at his side. “Did you just fight off a shark?”

“Yep.” Phil didn’t elaborate and Loki didn’t ask. There was more respect in the otherworldly being’s eyes though as they touched bottom and started walking toward safety.

Natasha met him in the shallows, putting her hand on his chest. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am.” He gave her his best reassuring smile before sheepishly admitting, “I lost the seaweed, though.”

“Did the shark take it?” Loki’s question was delivered flatly.

Tasha reached down and picked up the cord that was still tied to his waist. He sighed as she looked at the cut end and inhaled sharply. Her hazel eyes met his and were wide with concern for him. “Fuck the seaweed.”

“Agreed.” Loki spoke quietly but when Phil looked at him, the Asgardian had a little smile on his face. Loki glanced down and added, “Your leg is bleeding.”

Phil twisted to see the back of his calf. A long scrape the length of his hand marked where the shark had ground its rough skin against him. “Just a little scrape.”

“Let’s wrap it anyway. Just to be safe.” Loki headed toward the shelter to Natasha’s undershirt. It was their de facto bandage, even though they’d had to sanitize it several times now.

“We’re having oysters.” Natasha ran her hands down his arm. “To celebrate your close call.”

“We were having oysters anyway,” Phil told her wryly. “Lok-gan already caught them.”

“Yeah, well, now we’re celebrating with them.” Then she smiled and everything was okay for that moment. “And Logan is giving me the pearls he finds.” She held out her hand to show him the gleaming white spheres and his contentment disappeared.

SHIELD or the Avengers had better find them _soon_.

 

*  *  *

 

Logan slipped out of the shelter into the dark morning. He paused to assess the lighting and weather from under the tree, his fingers resting on the hatch marks they’d made daily to track the time. Today he’d add the eighth notch.

The half-moon didn’t offer much illumination but the light from the stars was sufficient for his purposes. He judged that the sunrise would come in half an hour or so. He slid his knife out of the belt sheath and turned it. It caught the meager light and blazed like a small star for a moment. Sliding it back into its holder, he began to strip his belt off his pants. He had a mission to accomplish.

Yesterday, a shark had tried to steal away one of his resources.

On some level, he wasn’t fooling himself. He knew he had to frame it selfishly. He had to pretend that Phil was a resource, not a companion or someone Logan liked. He couldn’t treat Phil as someone Logan owed his life to, on a daily basis.

He needed Phil for his continued survival. That was the only reason he was doing this.

He paused at the tide line to strip off his pants. He folded them and left them in the sand, striding forward in his boxers. The super-soldier put his belt back on, cinching it firmly around his waist so he had speed and his tools. He wanted to exorcise his fear of Phil’s fragility in bloody, personal death.

The ocean was cool as he waded out into the water. The shark would be out there somewhere. This was its hunting ground and it wasn’t smart enough to find another. It operated on ancient instinct. Logan was operating on similar: _This is mine, and you tried to take it. Now you die._

He threw himself into a wave, arcing sharply and ending up several feet under the water. Even in the dark liquid, Logan could see, another gift of the super-serum. He pivoted under the water, watching all the moving dark shadows carefully. When he didn’t see the shark, he kicked back to the surface, refilled his lungs, and headed for deeper water.

Over and over he slipped down into the ocean, seeking his prey. The repeated dives would have worn a human out but Logan was beyond such exhaustion. In calm seas, he could swim for days.

The island was a bump on the horizon when he shot under the water and saw the shark. It swam through the water like the tyrant of the sea and not even the maimed eye could reduce its splendor. Logan felt no awe, only the need to destroy it.

He surfaced long enough to draw another lungful of air before diving. As Logan kicked down, he drew his knife and readied himself.

The shark saw him and swung toward him; he was a large enough meal to interest the beast. As it drew close, Logan saw it was going to bump him, just as bull sharks always did. Grimly, he waited for the head-butt.

When it came, Logan accepted the full blow from the shark in exchange for getting his knife in it. The fish shied away from him and the jerk opened up a long wound in the shark’s back. Blood seeped into the water as the predator fled but instead of going out to sea, it turned toward shallower water. Grinning fiercely, Logan followed it.

He had to surface for more air but the blood trail from the shark made its trail clear. Logan followed it as it curved around the edge of the island. The super-soldier caught up to it after an hour. The blood still poured into the water, making a thick cloud around the shark. Other predators were surrounding it, waiting for it to weaken further and die. They pulled back when Logan arrived.

Logan circled to the front of it. The fierce beast only had the strength to jerk away from him once. After that, it hung limply in the water, even when Logan looped his belt around its tail and started for shore.

He wouldn’t leave his trophy but dragging it that far was tiring. He didn't have any way to tie it to himself and tow it, so all he could do was swim one-handed. The island was a long distance away when he started for shore. As he got closer, he saw that his fellow refugees were awake. They started when they recognized him, moving to intercept him as he came ashore.

“Where the hell have you been?” Phil’s angry query as he waded out of the surf turned into shock when Logan lifted his arm and showed his prize. “You went after the _shark_?”

“It could have come back.” Logan hid the tired tremble in his legs, locking his knees. “I hope you guys want shark steak.”

Natasha simply looked at him, her expression neutral. He didn’t like the feeling that wheels were turning in the back of her skull. It was just as unsettling as the knowing smile that lit up her face a moment later.  Moving to his side, she took the knife and the belt. “I’ll clean it. I think that Phil will enjoy eating these breakfast steaks in particular.”

“Oh, and keep the teeth.” Logan grinned at her. “I’ve always wanted one of those necklaces. It’s better when it has the personal touch.”

He started for his pants when Phil’s voice stopped him. “Logan.” He turned and saw true gratitude in his eyes. It wasn’t the polite, expected courtesy but real feeling. “Thank you.”

Logan felt his cheeks warm. _You’re mine, it was what I had to do._ He couldn’t say that so he said the only thing he could. “You’re welcome, Phil.” He turned away before the SHIELD agent saw anything embarrassing - or at least, anything more awkward than he already had.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha starts to notice things, and Phil and Logan have a heart-to-heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late. Cancer sucks, even when you're not the one suffering from it.

Natasha felt oddly safe and content. Sure she was tired; today had been a mad scramble to finish cobbling together their smoker so they could preserve some of the shark meat for a while. They’d also started construction on the signal on top of the wall. They had all agreed that the pale sand and rocks in the nearby water would show brightly against the black metal. It had seemed a good idea when talking about it but after one day, Natasha wondered if they were being too ambitious with their efforts. Getting the needed sand and stone to the top of the wall would be a hell of a task.

_Problem for tomorrow,_ she told herself firmly, refusing to worry about something she couldn’t change. She glanced over at Phil, who was reclined against the tree that shaded their living area. Loki was tired too, slumping down on an elbow instead of his usual haughty, alert pose.

Her belly was full of slow cooked shark steak. Phil had wrapped them in wet leaves and buried them in hot coals earlier. The result was the first fish they’d had that wasn’t flame-dried. It wasn’t surprising that Phil was the best cook. She never bothered to learn and Loki had probably never prepared a meal for himself outside of MREs.

“I miss music.” Loki’s remark came out of nowhere, right as he tossed a dried twig into the fire.

Natasha blinked at him. “What kind of music do you like?” _What kind of music would HYDRA make a millennia-old god-like being enjoy?_

“Folk music. Celtic rock.” Loki’s answer made a lot of sense, once he’d said it. That was music that would be familiar to him yet somewhat mainstream. “Like Mumford and Sons, The Killdares, The Tossers. Bands like that.”

“I’ve heard of Mumford and Sons.” Phil sat up a little, looking more animated. “I’ve never heard of the others.”

“Mmm. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard Romana Rast playing the fiddle.” Shockingly, Loki’s smile was as genuine as his praise for a mortal’s talent. The surprises weren’t over: Loki opened his mouth again and started to _sing_. “ _Touch my mouth and hold my tongue, I’ll never be your chosen son. I’ll be home, safe and tucked away._ ” With just his voice, the song sounded like a haunting melody about someone trying to tempt the singer into choices until he sang, “ _So crawl on your belly til the sun goes down. I’ll never wear your broken crown, I took the road, and I fucked it all away!_ ” He sang with anger and passion, unaware that he was singing about the whole cluster fuck of his attempt at the Asgardian crown. Natasha’s hair rose on her arms when he finished with, “ _And in this twilight, our choices seal our fate._ ”

Phil clapped as the last echoes of the song faded. “You can really sing, Logan! Beats my sad attempts at karaoke.” He sounded sincere and Natasha gave him a sidelong look. He didn’t notice.

_Interesting._ “That means it’s your turn to sing.” Natasha grinned mischievously at him.

As always, he couldn’t say no to her. He was lucky that she only used it against him when he wouldn’t really mind or when it was important. Phil sighed and thought a moment; then he adopted a guileless look that made Natasha narrow her eyes. Her suspicion turned to delight when he began: “ _On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair._ ”

Loki laughed, a natural, true sound that brought a smile to her face. She wondered if any other mortal had ever heard that sound as he joined, “ _Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air._ ”

Natasha started to sway to the song; even her limited knowledge of music allowed her to remember the harmony to _Hotel California_. Phil gestured for her to join and she gave him a playful bird in reply. The jerk knew she couldn’t sing.

When they ran out of lyrics, the men hummed the guitar solo together before finishing the last lines. As the music faded, the Asgardian turned to her. “So why aren’t you entertaining us?” Loki tilted his head as he asked, the fire turning his eyes to a pale gold.

“Because my singing isn’t entertaining. Even my rapping is subpar.” Natasha laughed at the look on Loki’s face. “When you go undercover, sometimes you have to learn odd skills.” She pointed at Phil. “It was his fault.”

He didn’t argue with her, just smiled. “I needed my best agent on that mission. You were it. Beside, I’m sure having to rap is not the most unpleasant thing you’ve had to do.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Natasha leaned back, settling against a rock. “But you two are very amusing. Please continue.”

The two men glanced at one another and she thought they might refuse. Then a slight smile curled Loki’s lips and he asked, “Do you know _House of the Rising Sun_?”

In answer, Phil started to hum the intro and Natasha sat back with a contented sigh. Something had shifted between the three of them; something had changed.

Natasha knew what it was after only a moment’s thought: the shark had shifted something in Loki and Phil. _I didn’t see that coming._ She wondered if it would be a problem and decided she’d worry about when it became one. For now, she was safe, fed, and warm. Life could be worse.

 

*  *  *

 

Two weeks of practice had done nothing for his basket weaving skills but Loki had mastered net-making. Phil guessed it was because Loki’s fingers were strong enough to force the knots to hold in the stubborn vines.

He glanced over at the Asgardian, watching him repair a net with a mixture of envy and relief. Phil liked being good at things he attempted but he was happy he didn’t have to do it. The pads of his fingers were always sore now from making the baskets. The plants they used for their nets were even harsher, rubbing his skin raw after a day’s work. Asgardian skin was made of tougher stuff, of course.

This was way better work than the morning’s job: the continual efforts to build a signal. That was the reason that his back and calves hurt and he was glad to relax now.

A red head broke the surface of the water and Phil paused to watch Natasha bob in the water. He told himself it was to make sure she was okay as she worked to catch crab but he knew it was because he wanted to watch her. When she was in the water or it was too hot, she would strip down her to bra and underwear. Phil loved and hated those days with equal fervor.

Next to him, Loki said, “You’re pretty crazy about her, aren’t you?”

Phil fought the blush that tinged his face. He thought about downplaying his attraction but Loki was no fool, even brainwashed, and he didn’t want the other man to think there was any chance she would be available. “Yeah. I am, I have for a long time now.”

“You didn’t because you were both in SHIELD?” Loki’s question was innocent but more than that, it was genuinely curious.

“Pretty much.” There was a lot unsaid in those two words and some days Phil found it hard to believe that he had her now.

Loki frowned and said, “Natasha told me once that you held a gun to her head and almost killed her the first time you met. What happened?”

Phil’s eyebrows rose; out on the waves, the subject of conversation slipped back under the water. _Natasha told him that?_ He considered whether to tell the story and decided that if Tasha had said that much, it wouldn’t hurt to tell Loki the details. “I sent in an agent to kill her. Barton made another call but when he brought her to me and reported his decision, I thought I had to complete it.”

“Why didn’t you?” Loki watched Phil closely.

_Her hazel eyes flinched as he pressed the muzzle to her temple. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape but she’d already lost so much blood. Her slim fingers clutched a rag to her leg, attempting to stop the blood that seeped out with each heartbeat. Clint watched him with agonized eyes, pleading, “Sir, I promised her safe passage! Coulson, I promised!”_

_“It’s nothing personal. I’m sorry.” Phil stared at her, trying to shut down his mind and emotions. He tried to not see how young she was or how afraid. She started to cry, eyes so wide it appeared painful. Her head dropped and he knew he should do it then, when he wouldn’t have to see the light go out of her eyes._

_“Please.” She gazed up at him one more time, one bloody hand wrapping around his calf in an electric touch he felt all the way up to his groin. “Let me balance the evil I’ve done with good. With SHIELD.”_

_Phil stared at her for a long moment. He saw honesty and sincerity. “Damnit,” he growled, putting his gun back in the shoulder holster. He crouched by her and said to Clint, “Get me the first aid kit and the whiskey in the cabinet.” He straightened her leg out and peeled back the bandage._

_“Thank you, thank you.” She leaned into him, smelling of gunpowder and blood and something sweet. Her lips brushed his cheek, perilously close to his mouth. “Thank you.”_

_“Don’t thank me. Fury may still kill us all for this.” He smiled at her kindly. “And your first lesson about SHIELD - don’t kiss your superior officer.”_

_“Too bad,” she murmured with a smile far too wicked for a girl her age, and Phil realized he was in over his head._

Loki was still waiting for an answer, so Phil simplified his memory. “I saw something special in her. I saw someone who truly wanted to erase her past and make the world a better place.” Natasha surfaced again, floating before diving back down. Eager to change the subject, he asked, “How did you get from the British Army to HYDRA?”

The Asgardian snorted as if he’d said something funny. “Disillusionment. I had worked my ass off to gain rank and do a good job. Then my brother poisoned my commanding officer against me and he kept pushing until eventually he got me out of the service. I fell in with some mercs who treated me like a tool for their own purposes. So when John Garrett offered me a chance to really change things, I took it.”

“Do you really think it’s a change for the better?” Phil asked, frowning. That sounded an awful lot like Loki’s story but he didn’t focus on that.

“Project Insight would have stopped the human suffering that plagues the third world.” Loki seemed to believe his words; Phil reminded himself that he’d been programmed to have unquestioning loyalty. “Given what you know about SHIELD, what they’ve done and their failure, do you honestly have faith in them?”

That cut a bit close to home. “I believe in SHIELD’s mission. We were fooled by HYDRA but so many of us believe in that mission still.”

“What of Natasha’s departure from SHIELD? Doesn’t that sting?” Loki watched him closely.

“She has to do her own thing.” Phil didn’t mention that any hurt was blunted by the fact that her leaving left them free to date.

“Don’t we all.” Loki tilted his head, his eyes curious. “Since we’re having this heart to heart, why do you think I killed you?”

 

*  *  *

 

Phil stiffened at his question, his hands locking around the ribs of the basket he was making. It was the first hint of a fugue that Logan had seen from him since they’d gotten here. Casually, Logan added, “You don’t say ‘tried to kill’. You say killed. I remember stabbing you in the back when I was escaping the heliocarrier.” That memory wasn’t the clearest for him; sometimes he carried a knife and sometimes it was a bladed staff of some kind. Sometimes Thomas was there and sometimes he wasn’t. It was the part of his memories that were the most scrambled by Coulson and his team. “Clearly you didn’t die. So why do you keep saying it?”

With effort, Phil pulled himself together. “If you want the story, you’ll have to hear things you don’t want to hear.” His blue eyes were full of pain as he met Logan’s gaze.

Logan hesitated, sensing some truth in Phil’s words. “I’d like to hear your version of events.”

Phil drew in a deep breath. “Loki of Asgard had been captured by SHIELD because he had the Tesseract. We were holding him. He had brain-washed Clint Barton to work for him. Hawkeye’s team sprung him and I was the guy who went to detention to secure him. He used illusions to stab me in the back. I died.”

They had called him Loki until he insisted otherwise. The matter of fact recounting sent shivers down Logan’s spine. Something about that rang true to him but he refused to believe it. If Phil were right, then he was wrong - worse than wrong. It would mean everything that he was meant nothing. No man could function with those kind of doubts. He ignored every one of them left in his brain and said, “You look pretty active for a dead man. How long were you dead?”

“Longer than I should have been. That’s another story.” Phil looked out over the water, shoving the basket away from his legs and rising. Logan glanced out at the ocean to see Natasha was swimming in to shore. “One I _can’t_ share with you. Classified, sorry.” The smile from the SHIELD agent wasn’t completely benign but this was territory Logan understood. It was good to know that SHIELD had something that could resuscitate people. “I’m going to help Natasha.”

Logan nodded, continuing to work on the net in his lap. He watched as Phil met Natasha at the crude rack they used to dry the seaweed. Together, the two of them started to separate and hang the plants. The super-soldier put his head down and focused on his task, thinking over Phil’s words. Even though he had dismissed them, they stuck with him for the rest of the day.

He waited until they were resting around the campfire before prying further. “Did Loki give you that scar?” He gestured at the white line that ran down the middle of Phil’s chest; he knew the man had a twin scar on his back.

“Yes.” Phil lowered the dried shark steak he’d been chewing on and asked, “Logan, what are you looking for here? Why all the questions about Lo-Loki?”

Natasha had caught the trip over the name. She hid her concern but not before Logan spotted it. “It’s interesting.” Logan took a bite of dinner and added, “You seem to think I’m him and it’s caused you to have seizures. I’m curious about it.”

“Then what you should know is this: Loki is not a nice guy but I’m not glad about what happened to him.” Phil stared hard at him. “No one deserves to be brain-washed by John Garrett and forced to serve HYDRA.”

_“A powerful being. Someone who had tried to kill lots of people. HYDRA captured him and the decision was made to rewrite him.”_

_“Sounds like an unpleasant fellow. It sounds like he was better off rewritten.”_

_“I didn’t know him, so I can’t tell you.”_

Logan repressed a shudder and changed gears. “I argued against them doing that to you.” Logan wasn’t sure why he admitted it to them. He could have been looking for emotional leverage to use later but in truth it just popped out. They should know.

“Yeah, Clint gave that away to me.” Natasha smiled slyly.

“Garrett flat out told me that was what he was going to do to us.” Phil grimaced and took another bite. “Thanks for trying to stop them.”

“Grant Ward was, too.” Logan looked at Phil.

Phil snorted derisively. “Good to know he has some lines he won’t cross.”

“Barton?” Natasha’s voice was quiet and she didn’t vocalize her question. Logan shook his head, feeling for her. “Okay.” She leaned against Phil, her eyes distant and empty.

Logan couldn’t begin to guess how she felt. He’d never been betrayed by a friend like that.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the storm come.

Phil wasn’t sure he would ever get used to waking up with another man’s erection against his thigh. It wasn’t a bad thing; as an agent, you did what was needed for the mission without imposing morals on your actions. Phil had just never shared a _bed_ with a man until Loki. While he wasn’t sure if the palm leaf and dried grass hollow they slept together in was a bed, it felt like it counted, mostly because of how much it bothered him.

Just thinking of it in those terms made it sound wrong. This was _Loki_ , the Invader of New York, exiled Prince of Asgard, brain washed HYDRA agent, and his killer. And Phil was waking up every morning with the man’s hard cock pressing against some part of his body.

He could have let Tasha sleep in the middle. He didn’t consider himself an alpha male but he had some small part of him that was one. It had compiled a list of every way that Loki was better than him, starting with ‘better looking’ and ending with ‘could beat me to death with his pinkie’. Every time he thought about changing their sleeping arrangements, that alpha male part became convinced that if Tasha woke up with Loki’s erection against her, she’d dump Phil for the Asgardian.

It was stupid. Worse, it was the kind of asshattery he used to mock other men for displaying. He tried to tell himself that if Tasha was going to leave him, it wouldn’t be because she’d slept next to a god-prince-psycho. It would be her choice. Yet his little alpha male prevailed, beating its proverbial chest, and thus ensuring he was the one experiencing daily Asgardian cock.

When his mind put it that way, it was almost something to be curious about. He really didn’t ponder those thoughts long, pushing them away to deal with something else. He’d woken up with the same thoughts for the last week, though, and they were getting harder to ignore.

This morning, the godling was leaning against his side, one strong hand resting on Phil’s stomach. The warmth of his touch had seeped through his dirty undershirt, creating a pool of heat. It was incredibly comfortable to lie here with Tasha on one side and the psychotic, brain washed murderer on the other. Sighing, Phil climbed out of the shelter, trying not to wake Tasha or Loki/Logan/Whomever. He was used to having some time alone in the morning as he woke up first. Going down to the surf, he sat down above the high tide mark and waited for the sun to rise. Their cove faced north, which maximized the heat and warmth but the wall blocked the early morning sun.

It seemed to take longer for the sun to rise and Phil realized it was overcast. _Rain?_ In the five weeks they'd been here, they’d found enough water to sustain themselves by milking the morning dew. They had been hoping for a good rain to give them a bit more water.

_God, a month._ The time had flown, consumed by the desperate struggle to survive. _We’re going to need clothing soon,_ he thought wryly, looking down at the shorts that were all that remained of his pants. His dress shoes and tie had survived only because he didn’t wear them out here. Even his socks had been used as tinder to restart the fire one morning.

“Rain?” Natasha’s voice at his elbow made him jump. “Sorry.”

“No you’re not. You love doing that.” He glanced back at the shelter, where he could just see the top of Loki’s dark head. “How’s Logan?”

“Still sleeping.” Natasha frowned as she sat next to him and whispered, “I think he needs more food than us but he won’t admit it. It’s finally starting to catch up with him.”

“Ugh, male pride,” Phil sighed, uncomfortable by how close to home that hit. “Let him rest. We shouldn’t need him until later.”

Natasha nodded. “If it rains, we should take a day to secure the water anyway.”

Phil grinned at her. “You just want out of building the signal.” He couldn’t blame her; the massive X they were constructing on the top of the wall required them to haul up countless stones and jugs of sand to lay out. That was after the effort of finding the damn rocks on the nearby ocean floor. It was grueling work and he wouldn’t mind a break from it either.

Natasha merely smiled, neither denying nor confirming his statement. After a moment of silence, she put her hand on top of his. Their fingers laced together as they sat in silence. Phil wondered where his team was looking for him. It wasn’t near here, else he knew they would have found him.

“I noticed you haven’t had one of your spells around Loki since we got here.” Natasha’s green eyes were curious when he glanced at her. “Are those done?”

“I’ve had one or two when you weren’t around. I don’t have the mental capacity to focus on that here. There’s too many other things going wrong or that seem immediately dangerous.” Phil rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, sighing. He hesitated, unsure if he should say anything. This was Tasha and he added, “It’s hard to think of him as the same Loki. He acts so different now. He’s helpful and cooperative. He doesn’t call us ants and look down his nose at us. He’s a lot more like-” Phil couldn’t finish the outrageous thought.

“Like?” Tasha couldn't leave it alone, of course.

“Like Steve.” Phil hastily explained before she laughed at him. “Like an ordinary guy given extraordinary power. They really messed him up, Tasha, and I’m not sure it’s a _bad_ thing.”

“It is, for him.” Natasha had gone distant, pulling inside herself like she did when she reviewed her past. “For us, less so. He’s had his free will and personality stolen and he’ll never recover. It’s still terrible.”

“Yes.” Phil could philosophically agree with that but emotionally he would always be happy HYDRA had fucked him up. He’d even manage to be secretly grateful if Loki permanently lost some of his psychopathic tendencies.

“I’m getting hungry.” Natasha’s words jarred him out of his thoughts. “I’ll check the trap.”

“I’ll stir up the fire.” As Phil walked back to the firepit, he reflected that he was lucky to have Tasha here with him. He carefully exposed the banked coals to the air and added tinder, coaxing the fire to life. If the rain came, they’d need to protect some coals so that they wouldn’t have to start the flames from scratch. _I do not want to do that again. Or deal with Loki trying to do that again._ Few things made Loki grumpier than having to manually start a fire.

Natasha came back to the fire with four fish and three lobsters. Most of the time, they only took the food they needed and tossed the rest back for later. “I’m hungry,” she said, her gaze sliding toward the shelter. Loki watched them with tired eyes.

Phil studied him a moment, seeing him as a person instead of a godling. The man looked worn out and tired. Natasha was right; even if Loki needed the same amount of food as them, he’d been doing more of the work simply because he _could_. He needed more calories, and Phil felt like a jerk for not noticing.

Do ya want me to cook?” Loki asked sleepily.

“I can. I just need the knife.” Phil waited until the other man had passed over the blade before offering, “You can rest some more.”

Loki gave him a hard look. Someone had programmed ‘Logan’ with an overwhelming need to be useful instead of a burden. It showed anytime Natasha or Phil cut him any slack. “I’m fine-”

“No, not really.” At Phil’s statement, Natasha silently asked, _Are we doing this now?_ with a single look.

When Phil nodded, she said, “Logan, you’re beat. Let Phil and I take care of you this morning.”

It was probably a sign of how worn he was that he let them get away with ‘babying’ him. He laid back down, muttering under his breath. Phil went back out to the beach and checked the second trap they’d set up, pulling out some more fish for them. The rest he released into the ocean.

By the time Loki dragged himself out to the fire, six fish and three lobster tails cooked on spits. The godling raised his eyebrows at the feast. “You must be really hungry, Natasha.”

“Most of this is for you.” Phil met Loki’s irritated gaze evenly. “No, don’t argue. We are all we have out here.”

“We’re enemies, Coulson.” It was the first time Loki had reverted to his last name since he’d given him permission to call him Phil. “Or have you forgotten that?”

“No, I haven’t. I know we need each other now. I know we’ve needed each other for weeks now.” He stared at Loki. “We’ll have time to fight later.” The SHIELD agent took a cooked fish off the fire and handed it to the Asgardian. “You can enjoy this, or I can feed it to you.”

“You think you can?” Loki asked as his eyes narrowed.

“I think when you’re weak enough, yeah, I can.” Phil waved it gently. “Wanna get that weak?”

Reluctantly, Loki took the food and started to carefully eat it. “So is this going to become a thing among us?” he asked sharply.

“Only if necessary.” Phil pointed up toward the top of the wall. “We need to restructure our expectations about our work schedule.”

Loki sighed but said nothing, his fingers scratching at the beard on his face. Phil had been avoiding touching his own face for the same reason. “How so?” Loki asked after a moment.

“We should only spend three or so hours working on that. Doing that and all the things we need to survive is too much.” Phil glanced between them. “We can’t keep up that pace. We’re only human - and As- super-human.” He nodded at Loki. “Agreed?”

“Do I have a choice to disagree?” Loki asked acerbically.

“Yes. You have to tell us, though.” Natasha remained unruffled.

“I don’t want to miss a chance at rescue because we’re lazy.” Loki took another fish and dug in, at least conceding to eat more.

“Agreed. But the X is already pretty big and visible.” Natasha took a bite of lobster tail, too hungry to care that it needed butter. “We can slow down a little without much risk of being missed.”

Loki didn’t look happy but he slowly nodded in agreement. They ate in silence, saving the cooking spits for later and tossing the fine bones in the fire. Standing, Loki brushed the ever-present sand off his pants. Phil was a little jealous that he and Natasha had been shipwrecked with sturdier clothing. “I’m going to run one load up the stairs before it rains.”

Natasha sighed at his stubbornness but didn’t fight with him. “I’ll help,” Phil said, determined that if Loki was going to break himself working he’d have help. The two men each filled a rough net made from seaweed and slung it over one shoulder. Phil had three good sized rocks in his net, while Loki had insisted on seven, all larger than Phil’s. It was unsettlingly close to what Steve would do.

Phil wanted to curse the infuriating man out after the sixth landing. That wouldn’t be fair, as Loki hadn’t even asked him along. Phil had been an idiot and volunteered. Now he was stuck climbing these steps with rocks on his back when he could have been flirting with his girlfriend. The fiber cord holding the net closed cut into his shoulder, while one of the rocks jabbed him in the kidney. Grunting, he reached back to adjust it, just as Loki met him coming back down. Phil glowered at him but kept going.

As always, he stopped at the top to take in the view. It never changed, just endless ocean, but Phil enjoyed these moments nonetheless. A sudden gust of cold wind at his back turned him around to see the dark, almost black, clouds in the sky. He watched for a moment to see if it was coming closer; once he was sure it was, he hurried to place his rocks. With a final look, he headed down the stairs.

Loki was bringing up another load. Phil rolled his eyes at the sight and stopped him. “Leave it here. There’s a bad storm coming, fast.”

“At least we’ll have water.” Loki looked slightly cheered by those words and tied his net to the railing. Phil helped him; neither wanted to carry them down and lose any progress. The two men raced down the stairs, chased by the dropping temperatures as the storm came at them.

“Tasha! Storm!” Phil yelled the warning before they were close. By the time he and Loki had arrived, she had already moved some coals into the battered paint can they’d found along the beach. It was too dirty to use for holding water but with a base of sand it was perfect for the coals.

Phil and Loki headed for the water collectors. There were only three but they’d cleaned them meticulously in preparation for this day. They were lucky to have rain, even if the storm bearing on them looked awful. They set them up and stabilized them with rocks on the outside to keep them from blowing away.

Nastasha ducked into the shelter first with the coals, setting them back where the leaves were layered thickest. The people could get wet but their fire needed to stay dry. She came out to help them but Phil knew she wanted to be outside when the rain fell.

The first drops hammered his skin as he took one last look around to see if they had missed anything. The last container was secure and he tipped his head back, mouth open to catch the water. Laughing, Natasha joined him, and after a moment, so did Loki.

They caught rain until their bellies were full of water, enjoying the pure liberty of drinking their fill. The rain soaked them in minutes, even the heavy, thick pants Loki wore. Tasha laughed and leaned against Phil, her skin slick under his hands. He didn’t do anything else but enjoy the thrill of her touch. It was pleasant until he got cold. “Inside?” he asked, looking at his two companions.

Natasha ducked in first, slipping past Loki and sitting at the far end. Waving for the godling to follow her, Phil found himself on the outer edge of their row. Loki was in the middle; he stiffened when Natasha leaned into him. Phil found himself getting tense as his alpha male - no, _his_ jealousy rose. She leaned forward enough to make eye contact with the annoyed SHIELD agent. “Lean in. Get warm.”

_She’s seducing me into a threesome._ Phil immediately rejected the idea. He knew that Tasha wouldn’t object to two men but Loki as the other man was never something she’d contemplate. Shaking off his ridiculous thoughts, he drew up his knees and put his arms around them to hold in his body’s warmth. He ignored the heat that came from Loki’s shoulder just inches to his right.

Lightning flashed, searing the darkness with white. The boom of thunder followed almost within five seconds. Each flash and roar made Loki flinch but other than that, the godling held himself still. The strikes and the answering thunder came closer and closer, until one strike lit the sky enough to read fine print and the boom could be felt in the air. “That was close,” Phil muttered, glancing back toward Natasha.

Her hazel eyes were the last thing he saw as he slipped into blackness.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The storm brings changes and enemies.

Logan’s mind was on fire. Part of it was insisting that this was just lightning and thunder but a deeper, more instinctive part was sure it heralded the arrival of his abusive brother, Thomas. He was a grown man but the fear had been seared into his psyche.

Natasha was helping; her lithe body against his was doing wonders to distract him. The old longings he’d felt for her on the Bus and when they’d first arrived surged back to the forefront. He almost hungered for her touch, as if he’d been starved of human contact and she could fill that void.

Cold air gusted sharply into the little shelter as Phil got up and left. “Phil?” Natasha called but the man didn’t stop or acknowledge her call.

“Something’s wrong.” Natasha pushed past Logan, leaving him in the makeshift structure. _Thomas will find you alone in here._ That was worse than the fear of the thunder and he quickly scrambled after her.

Phil walked steadily along the inner curve of the wall, ignoring the wind and rain. Logan spotted a soft purple glow ahead. He shielded his eyes against the rain and realized that the strange entrance on the wall was now emitting light.

Alarmed, he hurried to Natasha’s side. “He’s headed for the door and it’s glowing.”

Fear came and left Natasha’s face. She dashed forward into a quick run, turning so that she could see Phil’s face. The agent didn’t register her arrival, his blue eyes locked on an unknown target. “Phil? Phil!”

“He’s not there anymore.” Logan moved to the other side of the man and caught her eyes. “Should I stop him?”

The Avenger thought for a second. “No. We stay with him. But grab him if he starts to do something dangerous.”

“You grab him - I’ll fend off whatever comes at us.” Logan met her gaze when she shot him a glare. “I’m stronger, faster, tougher. You can take Phil but we don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Obviously, that’s what you should do if there’s actually something else.” Her irritation morphed into dark amusement. “I was speaking to us as a group. It’s cute that you thought I was giving you orders, though.”

Logan ignored the teasing in her voice. He’d had enough of that from Ricochet. Tensely, he kept pace with the mind controlled Phil, shadowing him as he walked straight to the door. The purple light came from symbols hovering over the door. Logan frowned as he tried to understand the complex hatchwork of lines and circles, only to fail. It was more like art to him than any understandable language.

Phil understood it. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and touched the purple latticework at precise locations. When he stopped, the entire image flared once and disappeared. A second later, the door slid upward into the wall.

“Oh my God.” Natasha gasped in shock only to lunge forward and grab Phil when he would have entered.

Logan joined her, stopping the other man simply by putting his arms around him and halting his movement. At the same time, he peered over Phil’s shoulder to see a vast open space that was poorly lit. The lighting failed as he watched and soon the interior was cloaked in pitch black shadows.

Phil’s hands curled up to grasp Logan’s wrist. “Guys? What happened?” Phil sounded remarkably calm for a man who no doubt had no idea who he’d gotten where he was, particularly when held in another man’s arms. Logan could feel the tremble in the agent’s hands as he pulled on Logan’s wrists to free himself.

“You went into a fugue state and opened the door while in it.” Natasha tilted her head. “I think that we just had a lightning strike which seemed to have powered whatever this is briefly.”

“Now the energy is depleted.” Logan continued her thought, testing it aloud and finding it fit. He cautiously released Phil from his hold though he kept an arm around the agent’s shoulders to support him.

“Something in here was controlling me?” Phil’s voice shook a little.

Logan paused, not sure what to say. Natasha saved him from the trouble: “Yes, it appeared to. The good news is that we can now explore the inside of this tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Phil didn’t sound any less scared. “Good news.”

“C’mon, let’s get back to the shelter.” Natasha had her arms around him and she used that hug to draw him back to their simple sanctuary. Logan followed, ducking in after the other two. Natasha leaned against Phil and the SHIELD agent wrapped his arms around her in return. With his better vision, Logan could see the fear on Phil’s face.

“Here.” Logan put his arm around Phil’s shoulders and pulled him closer. He wasn’t entirely sure why he did that, only that he knew what it was like to be jerked around by forces greater than yourself: his big brother and SHIELD, to name two. It must be worse if your tormenter had no name or face.

Phil sat stiffly for a second before leaning Logan. He shuddered in the safety of their embraces but Logan saw the fear fade.

_You’re getting attached to them, O’Dell._ The harsh self-critique came to him in his brother’s voice.

Logan shifted so that Phil lay more comfortably against him. _I know._

_You going to pussy out and let them go in the end?_

Resting his cheek on Phil’s head, he stared into the storm. In his heart, he knew that he wanted both of them. His own harsh words earlier today were to keep up appearances but he knew the truth. He had never felt so close to two people before. It was their situation; it had created forced bonds. If offered a choice, he’d take the one that kept him with them - not as a prisoner of SHIELD but as their peer and companion.

_Impossible_. His thoughts were tinged with sorrow. _When you leave the island, this relationship - such as it is - dies. It can only survive here._

His eyes started to hurt in the unmistakable prelude to tears. Logan relaxed against the man he was comforting and banished his morose thoughts. Later. He’d deal with them at another time, when he was alone.

That thought bottomed out his stomach and left him feeling sick at heart - and helpless to change anything.

 

*  *  *

 

Natasha stared out into the night, unable to sleep. The storm had passed just after dark but they had six more gallons of drinking water. Her anxiety was due to Phil’s mysterious actions during the storm.

They’d scared him and Loki, too. The Asgardian had hidden it well enough that Phil hadn’t noticed but she could read him now. Natasha had listened to the two men toss and turn for a long time before they had fallen into troubled sleep. She hadn’t been able to relax enough to rest.

Phil was on his side, his head pressed against her shoulder. When she’d put her arms around him, she’d found that Loki had curled around him in a protective huddle. Her hands played over Phil’s bare shoulder. His undershirt had finally fallen apart two days ago, leaving him with the ragged remains of his dress pants. He stirred slightly and she stopped before she woke him.

Bored and wound too tight to sleep, she pondered what to do. Turning, she glanced out at the beach. If she couldn’t sleep, maybe she could weave a basket or something. She’d gotten better at it, though Phil was still the best of the three of them. Loki was the one who’d surprised her by figuring out how to weave a mat together. His first one had been small but he was trying to make hammocks-

The two forms walking near the water’s edge froze Natasha’s thoughts. She held her breath, trying to determine if they were SHIELD or HYDRA. They were tall and male with heavy hoods hiding their faces. A second later she realized that she didn’t recognize the armor. It wasn’t foreign, it was actually alien. No earth armor had shoulder guards like that, or chest pieces - or at least they hadn’t had them for centuries.

_The door._ She’d not worried about it because she’d assumed that if there were intelligent inhabitants inside the wall, they would have come out to investigate them long ago. Now she wondered if they had even been aware of them at all.

Carefully, she reached out and put her fingers across Loki’s lips. Before she could shake him by the shoulder, he grabbed her hand and twisted it sharply away from his face. Natasha barely choked back a cry of pain as her wrist was forced the wrong way. Loki released her hand almost immediately but a steady ache from the joint warned her that he’d hurt her.

The godling peered at her and Natasha angrily put a finger across her own lips. Then she pointed out the opening of the shelter toward the strangers.

Loki moved carefully, shifted in near silence so that he lay on his belly. She saw him peer out into the darkness and then push up on his fingers and toes.  Before she could grab his arm, he’d scuttled out of the shelter.

Natasha rolled her eyes. _Damn alpha male Asgardians!_ Pressing her uninjured hand over Phil’s mouth, she nudged his legs with her knee. He came awake with a gasp and a jerk, and Natasha wondered if he’d been having a bad dream. She pointed out the strangers, who were now peering into the shadows near the wall. Clearly, they were looking for whomever had opened the door.

After the shark, they’d made several spears and hidden them around the camp. Three of them were concealed in the structure of the shelter and Natasha found the haft of one of them by feel. Phil echoed her movements as he armed himself and followed her out of the shelter.

Loki found the invaders first. The moment they came close enough to the shadows for him to strike, he dashed over twelve feet of sand and buried his knife in one of their sides before they could react. The alien howled in pain as the Asgardian’s blade sank to the hilt.

The other alien spun and raised a strange rifle toward Loki. Phil burst from his hiding place with a shout and charged the uninjured one. Natasha hung back, circling around to flank and remove the wounded one completely.

Phil’s loud attack distracted the alien from Loki, who sidestepped and put his hurt opponent between himself and the other alien. Phil’s charge was stopped when the uninjured fighter swept his rifle around and knocked his spear away. Phil hesitated only a second before closing to grab the rifle on top of the weapon and punch at the alien’s jaw.

The one fighting Loki had his back to her as Natasha slipped up behind him. She gripped her spear tighter, set her feet, and thrust her weapon into the unarmored man’s neck. His skin proved effective in turning aside the sharpened stick. What should have been a killing blow left a scratch on the man’s flesh. He yelped and turned.

“Help Phil!” Natasha shouted to Loki as he pulled his blade free in a spray of blood. The Asgardian gave her an annoyed look that she couldn’t interpret but amazingly did as she asked. He spun away gracefully to attack the one trying to beat up Phil.

Her opponent didn’t have full use of his arm on his injured side; Loki’s attack had been high and must have severed vital muscles. He turned toward Loki as the Asgardian moved away and  Natasha leapt on his back, hooking the shaft of her spear against his throat. As he clawed as her arms, she leaned back, using her weight to throttle him.

He collapsed but she was expecting that and twisted with the fall. He found himself in a chokehold as the Avenger wrapped his good arm and torso up with her arms and legs. Natasha gritted her teeth as the stronger alien grabbed her hurt wrist and started to pry her arm away from his pinned arm.

In answer, Natasha dug her fingers into his good wrist, pinching hard on a pressure point - at least one in humans. There was some correlation as he moaned softly and let go of her wrist, attempting to break the hold she had on his other arm.

“Move your arms.” Loki’s voice in her ear made her jump but Natasha compiled after she saw Phil standing a few feet away, unharmed. She let go of the alien as Loki leaned in and slit its throat.

“So much for questioning them.” Phil glanced at the other alien who was pinned to the sand by a wooden spear through the chest.

Natasha worked on catching her breath. “The door.”

“I agree.” Loki sounded furious. “Search them.”

The corpses turned up a treasure trove of items. Each dead soldier had a globe that emitted light, batons that emitted a shock of purple energy at their tip, metal restraints, and various sharp blades. Though the tech was foreign, Phil was able to figure out how each one worked. Even better, the SHIELD agent was the same size as one of the fighters. “At least I get some new pants out of this,” he said, joking to hide his uneasiness at wearing a dead man’s clothing

“If it makes you feel better,” Natasha told him as he snapped the front shut, “you look good in them.” She smiled despite her own discomfort. The pants did look good on him, highlighting the additional leanness and toning forced on him by their situation. Natasha selected a couple of the long blades and the other rifle for herself.

“These aliens look human. They’re stronger, faster, and better.” Loki hadn’t joined in the joking. Instead he crouched next to the corpses, nervously fingering the hilt of his knife. “But they look completely human.”

Phil hesitated before he picked up the pieces of armor he’d looted with the pants. “We don’t know how many more are in the wall.”

“But we should find out.” Natasha moved to help Phil, noting Loki’s tension. Loki’s green eyes shifted to them, watching Phil armor himself with something akin to anger in his eyes.

“Yes. Since I’m armored, I’ll lead.” Phil picked up the rifle and checked it over, handling it with strange familiarity. Natasha felt uneasy as she watched him.

As he walked forward, Loki caught Natasha’s arm. “Phil’s one of them,” he hissed in her ear.

Natasha stared at him as his anxiety redoubled her own. “What?”

“He’s a sleeper agent for these things. We have to be ready for them to trigger him.” Loki stepped away, hurrying to catch up to Phil.

Natasha wanted to deny it but the facts stared her in the face. She knew it was too possible. She wasn’t going to wait for him to be triggered and she jogged after him. “Phil. Phil, wait!”

Loki stared at her as Phil turned. “What?” the SHIELD agent asked and Natasha steeled herself.

“I love you.” Her statement reddened his face as he shot a glance at Loki. “I _trust_ you. We need you to-” She cut herself off and took a deep breath. “We need you to let us secure you in the shelter and do this alone.”

The shock and hurt on his face pierced her to the heart. She kept her eyes on his as Loki said, “Phil, you know how to use their equipment. You figured out the flashlights, rifles, and energy batons. You’re stronger than a human. You’re healing faster. And you opened the door while controlled by someone or something else.”

Natasha stared at Loki; she hadn’t noticed the strength - until she thought about it. She was used to the men she fought with being much stronger than her but fighting with Steve had distorted her perceptions. Phil had always healed quickly and she’d just thought that was normal for him. Maybe it was normal but he wasn’t what she’d thought he was.

Phil’s shoulders slumped. “Right. You guys are right.”

Natasha touched his shoulder. “Phil-”

“I’m okay with it.” He managed a wan smile. “I can see it. You’re right.” He cleared his throat roughly and pulled one of the restraints off his belts. “One of these around my wrists and one connecting me to one of the trees should do it.”

His attempt to be brave and stoic hurt. Natasha nodded grimly as her gut twisted painfully. “Let’s do it, then.”

Phil didn’t struggle or even flinch as they secured him to the tree. He wiggled around until he was leaning against another tree. He attempted to be lighthearted as Loki tested the bonds to be sure they would hold. “I’m going to try to sleep. Have fun, guys.” He grew somber and added, “Be careful. Both of you.”

Natasha knelt and kissed him. It was the first really long, lingering kiss they’d shared since agreeing to dial it back. The spark - the one that she had felt the night she’d tugged open his tie in Budapest, the one that she’d felt the night she’d cooked for him - flared bright and hot, washing through her fatigue and sorrow.

Phil was grinning when she lifted her head. “You and I need to talk about how a restrained man gets you hot.”

Natasha laughed. “Yeah, we will - before the cuffs come off.”

He chuckled softly. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Worse ways to go,” she murmured as she stood up.

Loki slipped past her and knelt next to Phil. He looped his arm around the other man’s shoulders and whispered in his ear. Phil leaned his head against Loki’s and nodded. Then the Asgardian rose to his feet, cold fury in his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secret of the island comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have another fic I'm poking around at that involves Darcy. She could be matched to any of the male Avengers (it's based on a prompt) or people in the MCU stories but I haven't decided which I'd like to see her with. Do I have any suggestions from my readers?

Phil leaned against the tree, pressing the rough bark into his back. He didn’t feel it through the armor, and he wished he’d taken it off.

_I’m Phil Coulson. My parents were Ronald and Jane Coulson of Chicago. I like the Eagles and the Police. I’m a SHIELD agent. I love Natasha Romanov, despite my better judgment._ He ran through the facts of his life over and over, even as he knew it was futile.

If he was a sleeper agent, if he wasn’t even human, then what was he?

Loki’s whispered words came back to him. “We _will_ come back. We will fix what they did to you. I swear it on my father.”

_I don’t think anyone’s ever made a vow on Odin’s name in my behalf._ The thought didn’t really cheer him up much. What did it matter if he had never been Phil Coulson at all?

“Fuck that!” The explicative, so familiar and human, helped chase back the bleakness in his heart. _I don’t care who they want me to be. I’ll be Phil Coulson, and they can fuck themselves._

He wasn’t sure he believed it. “I am Phil Coulson, SHIELD agent.” The darkness seemed to swallow the words but he said it again. Over and over, he told the sunless sky and his own mind who he was. He may not believe it now but he would.

He would chart his own destiny.

 

*  *  *

 

Logan slipped through the open door into the hallway with Natasha at his side. It felt like they were missing something important as they pressed themselves to the wall. _We are. We chained him to a tree._

Logan shook off the distracting thoughts. He checked the first corner as Natasha did the same in the other direction. He signaled it was clear just as she did. Their gestures were alike and Logan wondered if HYDRA or SHIELD had set the hand signals. Their long association had made them so similar that they were the same organization in many ways.

The open area that Logan had spotted earlier that day was more brightly lit, though it was interesting that the illumination came from portable lights set up around the room. There were boxes and crates in the room, laid in neat lines. Six human-looking aliens, clad in the same armor as the ones on the beach, worked on sorting and unpacking the boxes. A seventh, a male with blue skin and black markings on his face, watched the six workers with distant disdain. Instead of armor, he wore a long robe of red and gold.

They were at the edge of the light and would be seen soon. Loki pointed to the leader, then to himself, then to the next closest alien on the right. With a final gesture, he indicated he’d keep to the right. Natasha nodded in agreement, lifting the rifle to her shoulder.

Logan aimed at the alien’s shoulder, breathed out, and hoped he didn’t kill him. The blue-skinned one probably had some answers for them. The gun felt alien against his shoulder. _I don’t even know what this does._ He squeezed the trigger. A bright blue bolt of light jumped from the muzzle of his gun to slam into the blue-skinned leader’s shoulder, and he went down with a scream of pain. _So that’s what it does_. Logan shifted his target to the next pink-skinned alien, taking advantage of the woman’s moment of shock. This shot he put through her chest and she fell limply to the floor.

He dashed to the left just as the other two aliens recovered and grabbed their own weapons. Logan dropped to his knees and slid behind the cover of some crates as they turned on him. They had ducked behind their own cover, choosing to shoot much more half hazardly than he. They weren’t trying to hit him; they were trying to keep him from shooting at them. _They’re stalling us._

Natasha came to the same conclusion. “Logan! Charlie Yankee Alpha!”

It was HYDRA/SHIELD code for _Cover Your Ass_ , as in enemies were coming for it. Logan shuffled toward her voice, wishing they had communicators. He peered around the edge of a crate and nearly lost his nose to a blast.

The clatter of automatic weapons drew him short. Natasha inched into view, her rifle cradled against her shoulder. Behind her, he saw commandos in the black garb typical of Earth’s militaries moving forward. “Natasha, six o’ clock!”

She spun without rising from her crouch, covering her flank, even as he rolled across the open space to protect her new position. Her shoulder blades pressed against his back as he popped up high enough to take another shot at one of the aliens. “We need to get a better position!” he shouted.

“Logan, it’s okay.” Natasha’s voice sounded weird and he realized she wasn’t firing. Neither were the aliens; when Logan took a quick look, he saw them resignedly surrendering to the commandos. “Those are S.W.O.R.D. operatives.”

Logan’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think they’ll be happy to see me, regardless.”

“Just let me do the talking.” Natasha poked the tip of her rifle up, a universal signal of surrender. Logan’s fingers went white on the alien rifle. Calmly, Natasha said, “Logan, please. Trust me.”

Setting his jaw, he muttered, “What are they going to do to Phil?”

“Nothing.” Natasha’s voice was hard as she vowed, “I won’t let them hurt either of you. Also - Stark will be here soon.” She held up a sat phone and smiled.

Logan wasn’t really sure that was a better thing.

 

*  *  *

 

Natasha relaxed as Loki reluctantly pointed his weapon at the ceiling. He didn’t see this for what it was: their rescue. “I’m the Black Widow! We didn’t know this was a S.W.O.R.D. facility!”

“It isn’t. It’s an alien stronghold on Earth that was neutralized years ago. Everyone here was in cyro, until you woke them up and our computer sentry contacted us.” The commandos parted for the speaker, a tall slim woman with naturally green hair. “They were in hibernation, pending trial.”

_Trial?_ Natasha felt a touch of relief, despite dealing with a woman who clearly wasn’t human. She didn’t ask what the aliens had done that they awaited trial but that meant that their deaths would likely not upset S.W.O.R.D. as much. She glanced at the aliens to find the commandos disarming them, while a medic bent over the injured. “Had we known what we were dealing with, we would have operated differently. I wanted to let you know that I’ve contacted Tony Stark of the Avengers, to come and retrieve us.”

The woman’s expression flattened into one of distaste. “It isn’t like S.W.O.R.D. is the secret it used to be, anyway.” Her gaze was accusatory and Natasha guessed she wasn’t a fan of the upload of SHIELD’s file to the public. She glanced at Logan. “Who’s your companion?”

“Another man cast away with me, along with a third companion.” Natasha edged toward the door. “If we hide the bodies outside quickly, you might avoid dealing with Stark at all. I’ll do my best to get him away without bothering you, at least.”

“You were on the beach I assume.” The woman nodded to the commandos without waiting for Natasha to confirm. “Follow them, remove the bodies, and get back inside.” The female agent raised an eyebrow. “I’d love to avoid any more Avenger interference if I can.”

“I will be happy to accommodate you.” Natasha had heard that relations between S.W.O.R.D. and SHIELD had been cool but she hadn’t ever dealt with them until now.  They had deteriorated with the revelation of HYDRA.

“We’ll need the technology back, too.” The green-haired woman held out her hand. “Rifles, lights, batons, blades - whatever you have.”

Natasha nodded and led eight of the commandos outside to the bodies. Though the soldiers glanced speculatively at Loki, they knew better than to ask questions. While they cleaned up, Natasha and Loki hurried back to Phil. He glanced up, grinning when he saw they were unhurt, until he realized they didn’t have their gear. “What is going on?”

“I’ll explain later. For now,” Natasha said briskly, popping open the restraints, “we need these. And the armor.”

Phil blinked at her but complied, stripping the clothing off as fast as he’d put it on. “What can you tell me now?”

“This place was a S.W.O.R.D. prison and when you released the inmates, they sent a team.” Natasha’s words were tripping over one another as she helped him out of the armor and left him in his rags again. “But I was able to get a message to Stark during the firefight, so we’ll be rescued soon.”

Phil blinked. “Just like that?” He suddenly whooped and picked her up, spinning her around in a circle. “We’re rescued!”

“You are.” Loki scowled at them. “You should have discussed this with me, first.”

Natasha had known it would come to this. “You trusted me inside. Trust me one more time. Please.”

The Asgardian turned and stalked away, his shoulders stiff. Suddenly he turned back and said, “In your excitement, you’ve forgotten one thing, Natasha.” Before she could say anything, he snapped, “None of this explains what has happened to Phil and we’re unlikely to get answers now that we’re leaving.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil makes a declaration, and Stark arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the unplanned break last week. Life was just too crazy.

Logan felt rage as he uttered those words, but he wasn’t mad at Phil or even Natasha. He was angry at himself. They were hard words, meant to hurt her, yet they struck her and Phil both. He saw the elation flee from their eyes as they realized that only some of their problems were easing.

“I need to return these things.” Natasha broke the awkward silence left by his declaration. “Phil, you should stay here. Just-” Her voice faltered. “Just in case.”

The sky was turning gray with the first hints of dawn. Logan looked around their camp - their _home_ \- and tried to decide if there was anything he wanted to take with him. _The teeth._ He ducked into the shelter and pulled out the small bag of shark teeth. They’d had trouble pulling all of them without pliers but he’d gotten several good ones. _I still want that necklace. At least I’ll have one good thing out of this mess._ Natasha’s bag of wild pearls were there, too, and he grabbed them. He hooked both pouches on his belt and left the shelter for the last time.

Phil was unbanking the fire and letting the precious coals die. It was the surest sign that they were leaving and Logan felt his gut go hollow.

“I’m not going to let them lock you up.” Phil’s voice was soft, almost content as he spoke. Logan looked at him, feeling a frown starting. “I’ve thought about it for a long time,” the agent continued, his voice conversational despite the topic. The ease with which he spoke sounded so sure, so final. “I thought that I’d turn you over when the time came.”

Phil looked at him, his gaze somber and serene. “But now, we’re here, and I _can’t_.”

Gratitude filled him. It took Logan a long moment to find his voice. “What about Natasha?” he asked, a touch hoarse.

Phil looked down at the sand. “I’ll just have to talk to her about it.”

“What about your team?” Logan couldn’t say more past the lump in his throat.

“If they try to put you in a cell, they’re going to have to put me in there, too.” Phil shrugged and chuckled, as if the matter were a minor issue. “I can’t lock you away. I just can’t.”

To his shame, Logan felt tears starting to rise. He choked them back with effort but in truth, he’d never had someone stand up for him like this. Not in his family, not in HYDRA: no one but this SHIELD agent had just expressed the kind of loyalty he’d hungered for all his life.

He didn’t want to cry but he had to do _something_. Logan walked to Phil and crouched next to him. Phil’s eyes were so blue in the early light as Logan slid his fingers under Phil’s chin. He’d meant to say ‘Thank you’ but he couldn’t speak through the emotions. So he just kissed Phil.

‘Just kissed’ didn’t quite cover it. Phil stiffened for a second in shock and Logan deepened it, leaning back on his admittedly rusty make-out skills. He seemed to get it right: fire raced through his blood, particularly when Phil slipped his fingers into his hair. The kiss had released the emotions that had been holding him captive, so when Logan lifted his head, he was able to whisper, “Thank you.”

Phil’s blue eyes were unfocused. “Uh. . . you’re welcome.” He looked like he might say more but he glanced to his left.

Natasha stood twelve feet away, one eyebrow raised. Logan tensed, ready for her to have a negative reaction. She didn’t look happy as she said, “We need to talk, guys.”

“Yeah.” Phil recovered first and patted the sand. “We might as well get this out of the way before Stark gets here.”

“Yes, who is going to be kissing Phil should be settled,” Natasha replied and Logan heard the first spark of anger.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Logan looked into the Avenger’s eyes. “I would have talked to you first, as agreed.”

Natasha shot him an annoyed look as Phil asked sharply, “As agreed?”

“I noticed that Logan was attracted to you, so I told him I trusted you to speak to me before having sex with him.” Natasha sat down next to Phil, her smile too brittle. Logan tensed, even though he was out of range of her fists.

“What? When did this-!” Phil cut himself off. “Wait, no. This isn’t the most important issue we have right now.”

“It isn’t?” Natasha tilted her head with an irritated, perplexed expression.

“No.” Phil took a deep breath and picked up her hand. “Tasha, I can’t let them put Logan in a cell.”

The red-headed agent laughed as Logan exchanged a glance with Phil. “Did you really think I would disagree with that?”

“Well, it’s . . .” Phil visibly regrouped. “We hadn’t talked about it.”

Natasha scooted over so that she made a triangle, grabbing Logan’s hand. “Even though you kissed my guy, Logan, I’m not going to turn my back on all we’ve done here.” Her fingers tightened around his. “It’ll be rough. But Phil and I have your back.”

Logan felt another wash of joy and loyalty. _Love_ , a little voice whispered in the back of his mind. _Something you’ve never given anyone outside your family. Something that no one but Mother still had._ “Thank you,” he said hoarsely.

“No kiss?” she asked with a smirk.

“Wait, whoa, is this a thing?” Phil asked, pointing at the three of them in turn. “I mean- Let’s start over. Tasha, what do you want from me, from Logan and-or from us?”

“I want all of us to be happy. If that’s together, that’s together. If Logan’s gay and wants to be my boyfriend’s boyfriend, I can share.” Natasha squeezed both of their hands again.

“Really?” Logan could hardly believe what she said. “You’re just _okay_ with sharing him?”

Her eyes turned solemn. “Happiness is rare. You take it where you can find it, in whatever form you find it. If you can share, I can share.” One of those knowing smiles quirked up her lips. “It’s not like we’d be offering him competing equipment to choose between.” She jerked her chin at Logan. “What about you?”

He’d never been good at being honest but if there was ever a time to share, now was the moment. “To belong.” He cringed internally at the loneliness in his voice. “To be accepted. I’m not - it’s not - What I feel for Phil isn’t about lust. I don’t generally feel lust. What I feel for Natasha isn’t lust either. It’s-” He broke off, afraid to say the word aloud. “I like both of you. I care.” His face felt like it was emitting more heat than the sun. “I want to be with you. Both of you. Friends. More. Whatever. However.” He locked his jaw shut before he threw another word out of his mouth.

Was he really willing to give up HYDRA for this? He wanted to build a better world; a controlled world. _“Humanity couldn’t be trusted with its freedom.”_ That was the credo on which HYDRA was founded. When given their freedom, Phil and Natasha had trusted him. Could HYDRA be wrong?

“What do you want, Phil?” Natasha had turned to the last member of their group.

Phil opened and closed his mouth twice, shaking his head. Logan stared at Natasha’s hand in Phil’s, feeling the lack of Phil’s touch on his hand like an open circuit. “I need time.” He looked from one to the other. “This isn’t no. It’s a ‘I barely know what I am anymore’. I don’t know my own truth anymore.

He had said it wasn’t a no, but Logan was pretty sure it would be that in the end. Phil was happy with Natasha and hadn’t needed or wanted more. “I’ve had missions where I’ve had sex with men.” Phil looked at Logan and the HYDRA agent began to hope they were still friends after this. “Sex is sex. I’m not necessarily attracted to men. I’m willing to try with you.” He laughed at himself. “So I guess my answer is actually yes, but go slow.” He reached out and picked up Logan’s hand. “It’s been a few years since I last was with a man - I’m going to be rusty.”

“I’ve never been with one,” Logan admitted, “so-” He broke off as he heard the distant roar of a vehicle. “Something’s coming. Plane, I think.”

The three of them let go of hands and rose, heading for the tideline. Logan felt self-conscious; soon the Avengers would be here, and his friends would put themselves on the line for him. _Maybe we should have run._ If that had been an option, though, they would have exercised it long ago.

The plane appeared and slowed, hovering as the pilot considered the landing. The sleek black craft turned so its aft hatch faced them as it sidled over the beach. Repulsorlifts screamed and Logan put up his hand to block the stinging sand kicked up. The hatch opened and the famous Iron Man emerged, his armor glinting in the light.

A memory twisted through his mind: _“Your move, Reindeer Games.”_

A shudder wracked Logan at the sight, right as Iron Man said, “Is that Reindeer Games?”

“Stop it, Stark.” Natasha glared at the billionaire as she turned and put a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. We’re here.”

Logan nodded, catching his breath until he saw the blond man who followed the Iron Man. His brother Thomas walked down the ramp, a hopeful smile on his brutish face-

His brother Thor walked down the ramp, a hopeful smile on his idiotic face.

Logan/Loki dropped to his knees, not even caring that he was displaying weakness in front of mortals. His mind was torn in two: between two men and two worlds. For a moment, they stretched apart to the point of splitting in two; like a rubber band retracting, the two snapped back together. They fit so well because HYDRA had been careful to overlay similar experiences and the pieces - Loki’s and Logan’s - fit together perfectly. For a moment, he had double vision, where he didn’t know if he were Logan or Loki.

The confusion cleared at Thor’s voice. “Brother! What is wrong?” The massive paw that grabbed his shoulder could only belong to that lout.

Thor had stuck him in a prison, while Natasha and Phil had vowed not to. Would they hold that promise when he remembered - when he was the dangerous nigh-immortal being they’d feared?

“Get your hand off me, _dear brother._ ” He had friends here, people he loved and wanted. Loki reached blindly to his side, afraid to look, and a familiar hand caught his. Another slimmer hand replaced Thor’s on his shoulder. Phil pulled him to his feet while Natasha braced him on the other side.

“Logan?” Phil murmured, concern in his voice.

“No, not Log- Not _him_. I remember. Everything.” Loki glanced at Phil, afraid of what he’d see. There was fear in those blue eyes but Phil took a better grip on him and the fear faded. He glanced at Natasha and saw the same acceptance with a hint of wariness. That uneasiness fled when she saw his eyes. Without asking, they helped him board the airplane while doing their best to pretend they weren’t supporting his shaking knees.

“HYDRA will pay.” Loki hissed the words as they set him down on a bench. He meant them for Phil and Natasha alone. The other mortals could help with the task if they wanted, but he wanted their support - he needed their agreement.

“Yes.” Phil kept a strong arm around him while Natasha leaned in slightly, just enough to lend her silent agreement and her warmth. After a moment she rose, digging in a cabinet.

Outside, he heard Iron Man ask, “I’m confused. What just happened?”

_Let him wonder. He will never understand._ Loki closed his eyes, weary beyond words. Sleep sucked him down until he heard the familiar clink of restraints.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrangements are reached.

Iron Man stomped forward, heavy manacles in hand. Loki had started to relax but at the rattling sound, he jerked awake. “Knock it off, Stark.” Phil glared up at the man. All he wanted was to get back to civilization and get a shave, a shower, a pizza, and a nap, in that order.

Natasha didn’t say anything as she handed a water bottle to Loki and Phil. The look on her face spoke for her as she broke the seal on her own water and took a long drink. She kept digging, finding a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt for Phil to pull on over his tattered garments. Then she sat down on the other side of Loki, her stance protective.

“What the hell!” Iron Man looked from Phil’s face to Natasha’s. “Am I in the Twilight Zone?”

“Nay, you remain on Midgard.” Thor stopped behind him. “I believe Loki is too worn to attempt any villainy. Take us back to the new York.”

Stark huffed an exasperated sigh. “It’s _New York_ , just New York. You’ll keep an eye on Reindeer here?”

“Of course.” Thor sat down on the bench across from the three. “You have my word.”

Stark disappeared to the front and a second later, the hatch closed. As the sound of the engines increased, Thor asked, “What adventures have you had?” He was careful to address all of them, looking from one face to another instead of staring. “Your appearances are much changed.”

Phil grimaced and rubbed his short beard. “I’ll take care of that soon enough.”

“I don’t care to tell the story.” Loki closed his eyes again, his head dropping back against the wall behind him.

“Phil?” Thor glanced at him, his expression patient with only a hint of irritation showing.

The water wasn’t cold but Phil didn’t care, draining half the bottle in one draw. Thor watched as Loki mimicked him, though the Asgardian took smaller drinks. With his thirst slaked, Phil told the story from the moment they hit the beach to stop Volkov. He left out large chunks of it and glanced at Loki for permission before explaining how they had found the godling. Thor’s expression hardened when they told him that his brother had been brainwashed but he said nothing. Phil was relieved by his silence. Loki was on edge right now and prone to see any overtures of empathy from his brother as pity.

Natasha smoothly took over the retelling at the point where S.W.O.R.D became involved. Phil listened with interest as she explained how she got the phone and contacted Stark. He’d heard of S.W.O.R.D. before. It was actually a branch of SHIELD that monitored and dealt with extraterrestrial threats. They’d offered him a position early in his career; when he had called them to accept, they had rescinded the offer. At the time, he’d been merely disappointed but looking back on it, he wondered if there wasn’t something more to that withdrawal.

_What secrets about me is SHIELD hiding from me?_  
Tasha reached over Loki’s lap and took his hand. Their fingers tangled together and Phil felt the frown on his face ease. Loki’s hand closed over both of theirs, just a brief touch and squeeze before he released them, yet it was enough to chase away the demons.

Thor stared at them all like he’d never seen them before, and perhaps he hadn’t. _Get used to it,_ Phil thought with a mixture of defiance and empathy. _This is the new way of things._ He felt for Thor; this was a huge change for the Thunderer to incorporate. Phil had been living it for a while now and even he was slightly blown away by all the changes.

_Oh my god. I’m in a relationship with the Invader of New York. And the Black Widow._ He was _not_ updating his status on Facebook.

 

*  *  *

 

The Avengers Tower felt familiar and alien to Natasha as she exited the car that had driven them from the airport. Stark had once again tried to restrain Loki but it had only taken another firm denial from her and Phil to stop him. She wasn’t fooled. Stark had already guessed their intentions regarding Loki’s confinement. He hadn’t taken his suit off yet. He was saving his energy for the big fight.

So was she.

Phil fell into step on the other side of Loki, instinctively flanking him with Natasha. The Asgardian had to know what they were doing but he didn’t protest, a sure sign that he understood the precariousness of his position.

It was more than that, though. Loki had been changed by his time as Logan. Natasha was of the opinion right now that most of it was for the better though she doubted it would make him a model citizen. It had given him a common enemy with SHIELD and the Avengers. She’d make Stark understand that and see the value in that.

“Natasha, Phil, we have a medical team waiting for you in Medical.” Stark spoke the second they the elevator doors closed. “Loki, I have a team ready to check you down in your room.”

“Do me the courtesy of speaking the truth. You mean my cell,” Loki sneered.

“Let’s get this over with.” Phil crossed his arms and the elevator felt claustrophobic. “Loki isn’t going back into his cell.”

“He isn’t?” The white gaze of the Iron Man bore into the SHIELD agent. “Because last I knew, he was _my_ responsibility. My call about what happened to him.”

“And you did a fine job with that, Tony.” Natasha took a step forward, putting her shoulder in front of Loki in a clear gesture. “He was left depressed to the point of illness, and helpless when kidnapped by Barton.”

“You were the one making those calls, Romanov.” Stark leaned in slightly and Natasha felt Loki shift behind her. “You were the one who wouldn’t go and talk to him anymore.”

Natasha hid her irritation at the knowledge that they would likely have to have another conversation about _that_. _We’ll probably have to hash out a few things that other triads won’t have to deal with._ “He was on your watch. Now he’s on ours.”

Iron Man looked from one to the other. “After spending a month alone on a deserted island next to some kind of alien construction with one of the most manipulative psychopaths on the planet, I’m supposed to just accept that the three of you are BFFs? I’ll add, a manipulative psycho with magical powers.”

Thor cleared his throat. “I long to trust Loki but I have to concur with Tony. After all that you have done, Brother, you can’t believe that we would be so naive. We cannot trust you.”

“I want HYDRA removed to the last man for what they did to me.” Loki met his brother’s eyes. “Trust my rage.”

Thor raised his eyebrows. “Last time I did, you faked your death and took the throne from our father.”

“I will not fake my death, now that I have something to lose by doing so.” Very deliberately, Loki slipped his arms around Phil and Natasha’s waists.

Thor recoiled slightly from the casual display while Iron Man’s faceplate snapped open. “Nope, the video feed wasn’t screwed.” Stark retreated behind his iron mask again and his mechanized voice snarled, “What the _fuck_ is going on here?”

“None of your business.” Phil’s cheeks were flushed but his voice remained level as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. They were on the detention center and Loki’s cell - repaired and restored - stood ready for him. The Asgardian tensed at the sight. A handful of guards tried to hide their reactions at the tableau in the car. Natasha casually waved at them, refusing to act like she was doing something wrong.

Stark barked, “JARVIS, close the elevator doors and lock this tube.”

“Yes, Sir.” The doors hissed closed.

“I get it. This is Asgardian sex magic?” Iron Man sounded disgusted. “Thor-”

“We have no such thing.” The demi-god clenched his jaw before admitting, “Such relationships are unheard of on Asgard but more common among the people of Loki’s birth.”

Loki’s arm tightened around her waist, marking that Thor had scored a hit against his brother. His voice remained level with that slight hint of mockery. “Yes, it’s another reason the Asgardians list when they call them no better than animals.”

The suited man threw up his hands. “I get it, he’s a good looking man. But if you had to go for a dude, Coulson, why not Rogers? I thought you had a crush on him anyway.”

That was a thought. Steve might see things her way, given the recent discovery of the Winter Soldier’s identity. Natasha tilted her head. “Where is Steve?”

“Looking for his Bucky-ball in Canada somewhere. Steve’s going to lose his mind when he hears this.” Iron Man shook his head. “Don’t look at me like that, Romanov. I’m not biased against _whatever_ this is. It’s the people involved in the- What do you call this? Triple?”

“Triad. Here’s the deal, Stark.” Phil sounded calm and in control, despite having another man’s arm around his waist while Iron Man had a minor freak out about it. “We are going to focus on taking down HYDRA, together. If you can’t handle this, my SHIELD cell will. In the end, we’ll have a better chance if SHIELD and the Avengers are working together.”

Stark pointed at Loki. “You do remember that he’s a war criminal? That he was here as an alternative to going on trial before the World Court, right? A way nicer alternative than he deserved, and one provided by _me_.”

Natasha felt her heart start to pound as she caught the subtext of that message. Hiding her anger at Stark, she pointed out, “And one call to the authorities would land him in that court? You know that he’d testify that you sheltered him for how many months?”

It had come to this: mutually assured destruction through blackmail. If Stark turned over Loki, he’d face charges. His wealth and power didn’t put him above the law, no matter how he liked to pretend that it exempted him. “Whose side are you on, Romanov?”

“The same one you are. We just see different ways of fighting the battle.” Natasha sighed, tired of the conversation and having her loyalties questioned. “Can we table this for a bit so that we can shower?”

“And shave?” Phil added crossly.

“And eat.” Loki’s remark was stated quietly and with no trace of his usual bitterness.

Iron Man said nothing, holding himself as still as a statue. Thor was the one who spoke. “We can manage that. Natasha, your room is still here. Is that sufficient for the three of you?”

That earned him a glare from the white eyes of Iron Man. Natasha relaxed, even if she knew that Thor was trying to give his side time to regroup while keeping the three of them confined in one space. “Yes, it will be. Can borrow someone’s phone to order pizza?”

To her surprise, Thor pulled out her a slim iPhone. He unlocked it for her and turned it over. Natasha grinned at the background picture of him and Jane pressed cheek to cheek. “Jane gave that to me,” Thor said, his face turning slightly pink. He looked at Loki as if daring him to make a comment but his sibling remained quiet.

“I bet it has the cutest ring tones, too.” Even as she teased him, Natasha dug through the online yellow pages to get the number for her favorite pizza place. She knew the owner; she could come in and pay for it later, after her finances were straightened out.

“Pepperoni.” Loki murmured the word in her ear and suddenly her mind wasn’t on food. At the heated, questioning look she gave him, he said, “I want a pepperoni one.”

“Pepperoni good for you, Phil?” Natasha asked.

“No, I meant a pepperoni pizza just for me.” Loki grinned like Logan had, a more carefree expression than she usually saw on his face. “I’m starving.”

“Whatever you want to get, Tasha, is good with me, so long as it isn’t just vegetables.” Phil looked tired again, dropping his ‘war face’ since they weren’t fighting anymore.

Thor was still staring but he said nothing as she ordered a pepperoni and a supreme pizza. It was a perplexed expression, and Natasha didn’t know if that was good or bad for them. Stark said nothing, and she knew that was not a good sign.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Showers are finally had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long silence. My sister, the member of my family who was sick, died last Sunday just after midnight. Her funeral was Saturday, so I didn’t feel like posting yesterday either. This is a short post but it doesn’t work well with the next one, so it’ll have to do. I hope you like it anyway.

Loki rubbed his beard again, wishing that he had followed through on his impulse to suggest the three of them shower together. Despite their status, it wasn’t driven by sexual desires. Instead, he wanted to be clean and that might have been a faster route. “What are the odds,” he asked, just to focus on something else, “that Stark is going to turn me over?”

“Small. He’d be in trouble too. He might try to do it and ride it out, though.” Phil had a similar wish to shower, given the way he kept brushing his fingers over the shaving kit one of Stark’s people had provided. He glanced at the closed bathroom door and rose quickly, picking up the kit with an air of determination. “I hope he realizes that’s a lose-lose scenario.”

Loki watched as Phil walked to the sink, wetting a couple of towels. “What are you doing?”

“Something a little unhygienic but I can’t handle having this beard another second.” Phil rubbed it and winced, then pulled off his shirt.

“Sit down.” Loki flowed to his feet and opened the kit. It did hold a straight razor and the exiled prince smiled. _Perfect._

Phil sat as he asked, “Why?”

“Because I want to take care of this for you.” Loki plucked the brush and lathering soap out of their holders and wet both. Dropping the soap in the provided tin, he started to rub them together.

“You want to shave me?” Phil tilted his head, eyes narrowing.

“I did this for myself, while on Midgard. But in Asgard, servants would perform this function for me.” Loki judged the lather to be sufficient and turned to see an unreadable expression on Phil’s face. “Is this a problem?”

“No. You just said servants casually and it reminded me that you’re a prince.” Phil grinned a little. “I never imagined I’d be dating royalty. Or that they’d _want_ to shave for me.”

“Better than doing nothing while waiting for food and our turns in the shower.” Loki had been worried that Phil didn’t trust him with the straight razor and his relief at finding otherwise made him wonder if he had any idea how to have a relationship with a mortal.

It was too late for him, though. Even when HYDRA’s brainwashing had broken, he’d known that he was already attached to them. He couldn’t let go, though they were mortals and he would lose them too soon. He wished he hadn’t mocked his brother about his mortal love so much. He knew the true cruelty in the words now. _Of course that had been the point, to hurt him as he hurt me._ That perspective felt childish and petty now that Loki truly knew how it felt to be poorly used.

He couldn’t let go because he didn’t want to.

The lather went on smooth despite the thick growth of beard on Phil’s face. Loki took his time, letting the brush explore the hidden planes of Phil’s face. When the foam was thick, he set the brush and lather tin aside and picked up the straight razor.

He set his thumb against Phil’s temple and gently pulled his skin taut. In a smooth motion, he held the razor at the proper angle and began. Within seconds, Loki was glad he’d done this. First, it was something he could do for his mortal, a sensual pleasure and a gesture of caring. Second, it was relaxing to shave like this, a surprising thing he’d learned as Logan. There was a calming sensation that came from the amount of focus his task required. Last, shaving gave him an excuse to touch Phil nearly constantly.

He moved down his cheek and under Phil’s jaw on the right. The blade cleanly sliced away the hair, leaving smooth skin behind. Loki couldn’t resist running his finger over the shaved skin, smiling when Phil fidgeted in the chair. He cleaned the blade on one of the towels and repeated his efforts on the same side. This time, Loki saw the reason for the fidgeting; those flimsy jogging pants didn’t hide the sign of agent’s growing arousal.

Loki leaned down to his ear. “Hold still,” he whispered heatedly. “I might cut you by accident.” Even as he spoke, he moved so that he stood with his legs on either side of Phil’s knees.

Phil gave him a wry grin. “You’re a sadist.”

Loki pressed a finger to his lips, ignoring the lather that stuck to his skin. “Shh. You’ll get cut. We can’t have that.” He used his thumb to pull lightly on Phil’s upper lip, drawing it tight enough to shave his upper lip. Doing the same to the bottom lip to get his chin was a little less sexy but it did the job, even as Phil struggled not to laugh.

The laughter faded when Loki wiped the streaks of lather off from his face and tilted up his chin. Leaning down, he kissed Phil lightly, relishing the change in the other man’s face. Standing up straight, he tapped Phil’s chin to let him know to hold it there. Loki gently pressed his fingers against the base of Phil’s neck to draw the skin of his throat taut, and felt the mortal swallow tightly.

Loki took an extra moment to focus before he shaved this delicate patch of skin. He gently shaved downward with the grain of the hair, watching as the lather and hair fell away. The blade was sharp enough that it seemed to happen without him trying, which was the point. Any pressure on his part would cut flesh and spill blood. _I’ve done that to him once already._

The thought that he’d hurt Phil once made his chest ache but it also felt distant. Another world and another time: two other men, neither of whom stood here anymore. He wondered if Phil thought about that anymore. If he did, Loki would have to make new memories for him.

Loki wiped away the last of the lather and stepped back. “Better?” he asked.

“Yes and no.” Phil folded his hands in his lap in an age-old gesture to hide his erection.

Loki chuckled. “No one here is going to mind.”

The door to the bathroom opened and Natasha stepped out, steam following her. “Next!” she said.

“You go,” Phil told him. The agent rubbed his clean face. “I can wait now.”

“Thanks.” This was what it was like to care for and be cared for, and Loki decided that he liked it. His mother had done this for him but it was different when he knew they _chose_ to do this for him. When they chose to care.

He hurried through the shower and was rewarded by the smell of melted cheese and meat grease when he shut off the water. The scent of dinner rushed him through his own shave as much as he dared. He almost left a pencil-thin goatee on his face just to poke fun at Stark but that might vex the metal man into something rash.

Stark’s people had left him clothing to wear. The stretchy pants and shirt were all in black, perfect outfits to stock up for visitors in need. Loki pulled them on and stared at himself in the mirror. The outfit was too close to the HYDRA uniform he’d worn for the last months. Drawing on his magic for the first time since his capture by Barton, he summoned the illusion of his favorite outfit: the green and gold armor he’d preferred for so long.

That looked wrong, too, and he let the image fade. _I’m not the Loki I was. I’m not Logan either._ He was a new being altogether, an immortal who had lived and loved as a mortal. He would have to find who and what he was. That was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, his only worries were dinner and his waiting lovers.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A compromise is reached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about falling off the face of the earth. I'm coping but not as well as I wanted. I hope to maintain Sunday updates going forward.

Stark went for the sucker punch overnight, while the three of them had slept like the dead. When they got up, new clothing and food was waiting outside the door. After the three had finished breakfast and dressed, Stark asked them to come to a conference room via JARVIS.

Phil actually felt pretty good, right until he walked into the room and saw Steve Rogers sitting at the conference table. From the look on his face, he had been filled in on the situation. He sat next to a stranger, a well-built man with warm brown skin, who sat uncomfortably in his chair. He had on a black outfit with some kind of backpack across his shoulder blades. Both men looked jet-lagged. It was obvious that Stark had flown them back overnight.

Stark sat in the middle, next to Steve, while Thor had Stark’s other side. The stranger and Banner were at the far ends, while three empty chairs faced the five occupied ones. The set up was exactly the kind that Phil had seen used at disciplinary hearings.

He shook off his anxiety about his hero being in the room and took another moment to assess all the men. Stark looked ready to chew nails but wasn’t in his suit, no doubt ready to do this face to face. Thor’s expression was troubled and his smile of greeting weak. Steve looked somewhere between nauseous and horrified. The stranger nodded with the air of a man who had seen someone else’s dirty laundry and hadn’t liked the show but was trying to remain polite. Bruce gave him the most hope because his expression was neutral and he rose when they entered the room.

“I am _so_ glad you guys are okay.” He held out his arms to Natasha, giving her a hug, then offered his hand to Phil. As they shook, Bruce added, “We’ve been worried sick.”

“We were pretty worried at times, too,” Natasha said lightly.

Bruce looked at Loki, taking in the illusion of the dark green collared shirt and dress pants. His voice was much less friendly but still cordial as he told him, “Glad you’re safe, too. If you want me to look at you, just say so.”

“Thank you.” That was clearly the last thing anyone expected Loki to say and it visibly put Bruce aback for a second.

“You’re welcome. You’re still a guest of Tony’s--”

“Yes, well, I believe we have yet to determine that,” Loki said, his voice turning sharp. “First perhaps, introductions?” He glanced at the stranger.

“I’m Sam Wilson.” The man rose and approached, nodding awkwardly at Natasha. “Good to see you again, ma’am.” He offered his hand to Phil and Loki in turn; he hesitated only briefly before shaking the Asgardian’s hand.

“Sit down.” Stark stood, drawing attention back to him.

Phil stared at him for a second, telling him silently that he knew what Stark was trying to do with the setup and it wasn’t working. Then he took the middle seat, directly in front of the billionaire. Loki’s lips twitched wryly as he sat down across from his brother. Tasha sat opposite Steve.

Stark started with, “We’ve talked-”

“And I suppose I should thank you for poisoning the well?” Phil didn’t let the rich man take control of the meeting.

“Loki, I vow Stark will not put chemicals in your drink,” Thor said hastily.

Loki merely sighed. “No, Phil means that Stark has presented our situation from his biased point of view-”

“Damn straight I’m biased!” Stark glared at them all. “This is _Loki_ , and you two are listening to your various sex organs instead of your bra-”

“Is this when you tell us that you’ve come to a decision for our own good?” Natasha pitched her voice to carry over the inventor’s words.

“Enough!” Steve accompanied his barked command with a slapped palm on the table. The sturdy piece of oak rattled violently from the blow. “Tony’s given me his side. I want yours.”

“That seems fair,” Sam added.

“You ever pull your head out of Cap’s ass?” Stark growled at the non-Avenger. “I’m pretty sure you don’t get a vote anyway.”

“We flew back here overnight at your insistence, Stark, to find out your emergency is your inability to deal with a soap opera.” Sam shook his head. “Damn, man, that’s weak.”

“You can leave.” Stark pointed at the door.

“Tony, stop it. Sam might not be an Avenger but I trust his judgment.” Steve didn’t argue for a vote for the man. “He stays.”

“Fine. Anyone else want to invite any other spectators? Odin? Hawkeye, maybe?” Stark was as angry as Phil had ever seen him. “No? Great, would it be possible to get this over with?”

“I want to hear your side of the story,” Steve said, his voice dropping to a softer timbre. “Believe that.”

“I do.” Again, Loki’s display of common courtesy without scathing bitterness behind it surprised the five across the table. “Phil? Would you like the honor?”

“Sure.” _Yes, because I want to tell my idol how I got into a bisexual relationship with a mass murderer and an assassin._ The other side of that coin was, _If I’m ashamed of being with them - face it, this is about him, not her - then I need to back out, now._ Phil looked over at Loki, who gave him a small, encouraging smile. The agent drew a deep breath, taking strength from that. _I have nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve seen who he is now._

“I must speak first.” Thor’s first words burst out of him like a stream. “Loki, I spoke with Heimdall last night. He has verified Phil’s story, as it was related to me in the aircraft. Also, he explained to me things I didn’t know about jotun. I would be happy to recount them to you later, Loki, if you wish.”

“‘Things’?” Loki asked icily.

“How jotun love matches and family bonding happens naturally among their people.” Thor suddenly reminded Phil of a family member working hard to accept a relative’s disturbing sexual preferences.

“Actually this sounds interesting,” Stark said. “And relevant.”

Thor reddened. “I don’t think-”

“We know, but if Tony Stark wants to hear about jotun sexual proclivities, who am I to stop him?” Lovi smiled evilly and leaned back in his chair.

Phil glanced at Natasha, who didn’t look like she thought this was a great idea. She didn’t argue, so he looked at Thor and shrugged. “Looks like you have the floor still, big guy.”

Sam put his face in his hands. “I just wanted to help Captain America. How did I end up here?”

“Don’t worry, Sam, it only gets worse,” Natasha cooed sweetly.

“Jotun do not have inborn gender preferences. Aesir do strongly and near-universally, to the point that less than one percent of our population prefers the same gender.” Despite the flush that was turning his cheeks a violent scarlet, Thor forged bravely onward. “Jotun do not, to the point that no one tracks it. It is not relevant to them. They are drawn to someone, and if it is a strong enough draw, they may start a relationship. That may become a permanent one in time, or fade away. Heimdall said your actions, though you thought yourself another person, were in keeping with jotun love-matches.” Thor summoned a genuine smile for his brother. “I offer my congratulations.”

“Very sweet.” Stark’s sarcasm was sharp enough to wound.

“I want Stark to leave until we’re done telling Steve our side.” Natasha’s request came hard on the heels of Stark’s remark.

“No way,” Stark snarled. “There is no way in hell I’m leaving Steve alone in a room to be manipulated by the three of you.”

 _The three of you._ With that one phrase, Stark had revealed his mind on the matter: their association with Loki had tainted them. Phil was a little surprised that it hurt.

“He won’t be alone.” Bruce leaned forward. “I haven’t heard their side, either.”

“And Sam will stay. Right?” Steve asked belatedly.

“Sure, Sam will stay.” The young man threw up his hands. “I’m just billing you for any therapy I need from this.”

“The other option is you keeping your mouth shut until I’m done.” Phil liked Natasha’s suggestion better than his but he wanted to offer a concession, particularly since Stark wasn’t bending.

“Yeah, I want to hear this, too. Direct from the dead man’s mouth.” Stark glared at Phil.

Phil fought back his usual tremors at the mention of his death; they were getting easier to move past. Acting as nonchalant as he could, Phil repeated the story he’d told Thor yesterday. Stark twitched multiple times but said nothing. Natasha picked up the part about S.W.O.R.D. once more, but when she was done, Phil took over again. “Then I told Loki that I wasn’t going to put him in a cell.” He felt his face warm slightly at the memory of how the then-Logan had chosen to thank him but pressed on. “Natasha agreed with me.

“Here’s the bottom line that the rest of you don’t understand.” Phil paused to meet everyone’s eyes for a second. “Loki’s been through a mind-altering experience - literally. He-”

“Can explain for himself.” Loki interrupted him and Phil mentally noted that the Asgardian didn’t like others to speak for him. “Phil is correct. I am not the god I used to be. I have new imperatives, new drives. One of those, the one that concerns all of you, is my desire to take HYDRA down.”

“The other one is nail to Phil in the ass?” Stark had a second to smirk before Natasha went across the table after him.

Steve got to her first and stopped her headlong vault. “Natasha, Natasha!” he yelled, his faster reflexes wrapping her up in a painless joint lock. “Calm down!”

“I’ve had _enough_ of you, Stark!” Natasha struggled against Steve.

“ _Release_ her, soldier.” Loki had risen and Phil only needed one look to know that what his boyfriend planned would only escalate the situation. Loki’s emotions were running high - all their emotions were - but the jotun was still dealing with the newness of their relationship.

Phil put his hand on Loki’s forearm and caught his gaze. “Steve won’t hurt her, but he won’t allow her to hurt Stark either.”

“I think this makes my point for me.” Stark sat back, outwardly unperturbed that one of the world’s premier assassins was trying to get her hands on him. “He’s got her to the point that she’s attacking her teammates.”

“He is touching her without her permission.” Loki ignored Stark’s comment, continuing his conversation with Phil.

“Tasha, let it go.” Phil could feel the tension in Loki’s arm. This was going to get very, very ugly.

Her hazel eyes were angry but she could control herself. “Fine. I’m _fine_ , Steve.” Natasha stepped away from Stark the second she was free, moving around the table to get further away from the inventor. She slipped in between Phil and Loki. The SHIELD agent felt her hand drop onto his shoulder and Loki pointedly slipped his arm around her waist.

“I think one thing is clear. We can’t work like this.” Phil stared at Stark to make it clear where the fault laid.

“Work? We’re still discussing jail time for Reindeer.” The billionaire wouldn’t let that go.

“House arrest.” Bruce was standing by the wall, having moved when things started to get rough. When everyone looked at him, he elaborated, “Look, Loki is trying to say that he wants to fight HYDRA. So let him do it. Give him a secure room - a room, not a cell - and limited access to labs or whatever, and let him prove it. Start him small.”

“Like debrief him on the HYDRA intel he carries.” Steve leaned forward. “Would you be willing to do that, Loki? Prove yourself?”

“Wait, what?” Stark looked at Captain America, his eyes wide.

“Phil and Natasha have made it clear that they’re going to fight straight incarceration.” Steve’s expression was carefully neutral. “Loki insists that he’s on our side. This is the middle ground. Good idea, Bruce.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s a terrible idea.” Stark looked furious.

“The alternative will result in fighting.” Steve glanced at Sam. “Unless you have something?”

“I’d ask you to wear an ankle monitor, too, Loki.” The non-Avenger raised his hands defensively at the sharp look he got from the jotun. “You want our trust but from everything I’ve heard, your past makes that impossible. You have worked against the Avengers, against Phil and Natasha, but they trust you now. You have to give the Avengers that same chance to learn to trust you. That’ll take time and accommodations. On both sides.”

There was a long silence, broken by Loki tipping his head forward in grudging acknowledgement. “Very well.”

“And that’s why I wanted him to stay.” Steve awkwardly raised his fist toward Sam who had to visibly choke back laughter as he bumped it.

“That is the whitest thing I’ve ever seen,” Natasha said, her voice lighter than it had been.

“We’re working on it. I’m teaching him.” Sam grinned.

“Tony?” Bruce asked softly.

“Fine. Loki doesn’t leave the tower and has limited access. Very limited access. And some pretty ankle jewelry.” Stark glared at them all.

“Two more conditions.” Natasha leaned forward. “First, we are given work to do. Meaningful work that will let us help Loki prove his intentions.” Steve nodded. “Second, drop the homophobic comments, Stark.”

“Take it up with HR, Romanov.” Standing, the billionaire stalked out of the room.

Bruce released a quiet sigh. “That went well.” He shrugged at the looks he got. “What? No one died. Score one for the good guys.”

Loki murmured, “Is that what we are now?”

Phil kinda wondered that himself sometimes.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new digs come with jewelry, beer, and a request.

“I called you in for back up!” Tony barely let the door closed before he turned on Steve, his expression furious. “And you backed Loki!”

Sam crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to the door, trying to pretend he was somewhere else. _I just wanted to help Steve find his missing friend. I’m just a guy who helps vets readjust to civvies. What am I doing here?_ The answer was still ‘helping Steve’. He’d just thought that would involve more punching and hot spy women, and less dead ends and moral quandaries. 

“I’m not your puppet, Tony.” Steve stood firm in the face of the Iron Man’s anger. “I have my own mind.” 

“Yes! I know! But you always make the right choice, until now!” Tony pointed at Steve. “Why did you go so wrong this time, Rogers?” 

“Because Loki is different.” Steve tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you see that?” 

“This is _Loki_. Someone like him doesn’t change. He’s playing a long con, I _know_ it.” Tony stalked to the bar and poured himself a glass of something alcoholic and expensive. 

“Everything about him is different. His hair, his body language, his speech - Tony, those aren’t the kind of things someone can alter consciously, not permanently.” Steve sighed. “Put him under some stress and see if he breaks.” 

“Yeah, because I want that psychopath breaking all over my tower.” Tony downed his glass in one shot and poured another. 

“If he’s playing the con, he will slip up. Tony, I want to see the real Loki as much as you.” Steve glanced quickly at Sam and away. “I don’t mean the Loki you think he is but the real man inside, who he is now.” 

That glance had looked like an appeal for help and Sam stifled a sigh. _Our next mission had better feature Natasha’s single sister._ “There’s something that’s been bothering me.” His interjection paused Tony as he started to lift his glass again. “You said that Loki despised mortals - us, right? That he saw us as ants? So why would he lower himself to have a relationship with not just one mortal but two? Would the guy he was before have even considered that?” 

“No, he would have seen it as beneath him.” Tony sounded like he was actually listening - better, he was actually _thinking_ about what was being said. Even if he didn’t agree with him, Sam would prefer that over the ranting and mindless drinking. “You are on to something there.” 

Steve shot him a glance of gratitude and added, “When I grabbed Natasha and Loki stood up, I thought he was coming at me. Phil touched his arm and stopped him. Does that sound like the Loki of old?” 

“I still don’t trust him.” Tony’s comment was grudging at best. 

“I don’t either but I trust my senses. Something is going on here and we need to know what that is.” Steve tilted his head forward to emphasize his point. “We keep him close and watch him.” 

“And if he is playing you, you’ll need to be there for your friends.” Sam knew something about recovering from trauma. “Afterwards.” 

Tony nodded slowly. “Yeah. For the record, I still hate this plan.” 

Steve’s face twisted into a bemused smile. “You’re not the only one. But we’ll do this together.”

 

*  *  *

 

It only took an hour for Stark to prepare everything. They had barely returned to Natasha’s room before four technicians showed up with the tracking ankle band. Loki submitted to the degradation, reminding himself that it was only for a short time. If it wasn’t for a short time, that was another matter entirely but not a battle for today. The metal band was light and unobtrusive but he felt its presence constantly. 

When that was done, the spokesperson for the group pulled out a tablet and pulled up a program on the primitive interface. “Now I need to scan your retina and your hand print.” Loki glared at him and the man quickly said, “This is how you’ll access locked cabinets and use the computers. JARVIS will notify you about denied rooms but we do retinal scans and palm prints for everything else.” He fidgeted again and said, “You’ll have access to a limited portion of the Tower-” 

“I assumed as much.” Loki fought the urge to adjust the ankle monitor. He tried to smile for the nervous techs but that didn’t help. “Relax. I won’t bite.” 

“Aww,” Natasha murmured in mock disappointment. That only made the technicians more nervous. 

“Tasha.” Of them, Phil was the one acting as conciliator. 

“Also, Mr. Stark wanted to offer a team to move your personal effects, Ms. Romanov.” The technician took a hasty step back when she turned an angry glare on him. 

“Oh, and where does ‘Mr. Stark’ think I’m going?” Natasha asked, her voice cold enough to freeze exposed skin. 

“He thought you might like a bigger suite.” The sole woman on the team spoke for the first time. “You know, more room for-” She cut off and her cheeks flamed red. “Your change in your relationship status. You now, since there’s more - that is, your fam- more people with you now.” 

Natasha smiled wryly. “I’ll move my own personal effects, thank you. Where’s the new place?” 

They were led up two floors to a living suite that seemed to take half the floor. The dining room, living room and kitchen took most of the space, flowing together across three levels. The bedrooms - two of them - were furnished with king-sized beds but didn’t feel cramped. Even the bathroom was oversized, with a jacuzzi big enough for more than one person and a shower that had spray heads on two walls and the ceiling. “Wow,” Natasha muttered as she glanced at the opulent main room. “If I’d know I could have this, I would have shacked up with two men long ago.” 

The technicians tried to pretend they hadn’t heard her, except for the woman, who was staring at Loki. He winked at her, just to see her reaction. Her blush looked hot enough to be painful and she turned away quickly. Chuckling, he slipped behind Natasha and put his arms around her. As all the technicians tried to wish themselves away, Loki murmured in her ear, “I’m not sure there’s room for three men in this relationship.” 

“Maybe Stark would have given me a jello pit, then.” Natasha wiggled out of his arms with an annoyed glance at him. They hadn’t discussed PDA yet - one more thing to add to the list. 

“And everything is uploaded and in the green. That was all we needed,” the technician quickly said, leading the group out the door. “Mr. uh, Mr. Loki, you should have access to the computers now. Call down to the NewHUB if you need anything.” The door shut sharply, almost cutting off the last word. 

“Do you need us to help you move?” Phil had taken off his jacket and was rolling up his sleeves. 

“No, I only keep a few things here.” Natasha smiled. “I’ll be right back.” She waved at them and strolled out. 

“Is it me,” Loki said softly as he took a seat on one of the couches, “or is Stark being very hospitable?” 

“This feels more like Steve.” Phil sat down and rotated his neck, looking tired. “We have a lot to cover and I don’t know where to begin.” 

A tap on the door raised Loki’s eyebrow and he rose to open it. To his surprise, Thor was there, with Jane. “It is Midgardian custom to bring gifts upon a first visit to a new home.” The blond man smiled broadly and extended his arm, pushing a six-pack of beers toward Loki. 

Loki smiled, trying not to laugh at the forced expressions on both faces. “You don’t have to try so hard, Thor. I am aware this is awkward for you.” He took the beer and glanced at Phil. “Are we up for company?” 

“I’m fine but if Tasha isn’t, we’ll have to kick you out when she comes back.” Phil waved for them to enter. 

The couple looked around with wide eyes. Jane was clearly impressed. “This place is amazing. Thor, your room isn’t half this nice.” 

“You should move in together, see if Stark will upgrade you.” Loki smiled at the looks that crossed their faces. Thor appeared to be giving it real thought while Jane looked slightly horrified at the idea. He slipped the beer into the fridge for later. It was strange, this comfort with the mortal’s world, but only when he stopped to ponder it. Otherwise, it felt natural after months of living as Logan. “So what else brings you by, brother?” 

“That was my idea,” Jane confessed quickly as they took a seat on the couch together. “Thor told me how the meeting went and I thought we should check on you guys. See how you’re doing.” 

It may have been Jane’s suggestion but it was Thor’s desire that had driven that decision. “Thank you,” Loki said agreeably, noticing that his brother was watching him closely. He stifled a sigh. “We are fine.” 

“Good.” Jane pressed her hands together. There was an awkward pause before she asked, “So, do you guys need anything?” 

“We don’t really know what we have yet,” Phil said softly. 

“Right, right.” Jane nodded quickly. “If you need anything-” 

“You will know.” Loki doubted that was true but it was the thing that should be said. 

“Great.” Jane glanced at Thor as if to urge him to speak but clearly his oaf of a brother had no idea what to say. The knock at the door seemed a blessing despite signaling another unannounced visitor.

“I got this one.” Phil volunteered with a smile. When he opened the door, Loki saw the soldier on the other side. “Steve! I didn’t expect to see you.” 

“Are you busy?” Captain America looked uncomfortable, his big hands flexing around the folders he held in his hands. “I can come back-” 

“We can go, if you have official business.” Jane and Thor both rose. 

“This wouldn’t be a problem if people would call ahead.” Loki spoke with only a hint of sharpness but it still got his point across. Jane mumbled an apology and something about having dinner together, and then she and Thor were gone. 

“Sorry. With the Avengers, I just got used to dropping in.” Steve cleared his throat. “None of us have ever been in a relationship, where that might be an issue. I’ll just come back later, after lunch? One o’clock?” 

“At least tell us why you came?” Loki was getting very tired of people acting like he was going to bite their heads off. If they kept it up, he just might to do it so they’d stop half-expecting it. 

“I hoped you’d help me find my friend, Bucky Barnes.” Steve lifted his chin. “He was brain-washed by HYDRA for seventy years to serve as the Winter Soldier.” 

Loki’s breath caught. _“But I did meet the Winter Soldier once, before he went AWOL.”_  

_“What was he like?”_

_“Empty. They’d stripped everything out of him and left a killing machine behind.”_

“You’ve heard of him,” Steve said softly. 

“I have, while with HYDRA.” He nodded once. “Of course I’ll help.” 

Steve stared at him, surprised. “You really mean that, don’t you?” 

“Don’t believe I’ll be so eager to help you on just any pet project.” Loki flashed a wry smile as he finished, “I am loathe to leave anyone so ill used by HYDRA in the wind. He’d be susceptible to brainwashing again should they pick him up.” Loki knew he would be as well, and that they would take away his feelings for his mortals. It was his worst fear. 

Steve nodded. “I know. That’s why I have to find him first.” 

“So we will.” He wasn’t quite sure why he said it but he added, “They used the same machine on me as they did on him.” He heard Phil draw a soft breath in sympathy. “I would not wish that fate on anyone.” 

Steve Rogers, Captain America, looked like he might cry. He offered his hand to Loki, who took it with hesitation. “I’m glad Bucky will have someone who understands what he went through.”

“Yes,” Loki said uncertainly, catching sight of Natasha with a box in the doorway. She’d clearly been there for a time, listening. Her expression said it all: Steve was truly desperate if he thought Loki would be a comfort to a traumatized individual.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting busy for the triad.

Their routine quickly established itself around Loki and Phil’s schedules. Phil was in long meetings with various people in SHIELD, trying to undo the damage his unexpected departure had caused. Not only had a high-ranking official disappeared, his team had spent valuable resources in the search for him. Though heartening, it had left SHIELD well behind the ball.

Loki had morning meetings with SHIELD operatives as well but he wasn’t pulling them together. They were pulling his knowledge of HYDRA apart. He endured it with poor grace, at least when he spoke to Natasha about the debriefings. His afternoon meetings with Steve and Sam were more tolerable or at least he didn’t seem as cross when he mentioned them. Natasha thought that had more to do with his interest in Bucky Barnes’ plight than any actual enjoyment.

It had left her with little to do other than catch up on world news. As an Avenger, that was a surprisingly important part of her job. She needed to know what was happening so that if she had to work in that part of the world, she wasn’t operating without a clue. It had been part of her duties as a SHIELD agent, though in that job, she’d had other people gather the intel she needed and give it to her in packets. Now she had to figure out what was pertinent and what wasn’t, and she was doing it without the classified intel from SHIELD.

Today, she wasn’t having much luck focusing. They were slowly settling into their lives as a triad and she was happy, as happy as she ever thought she could be. The only downside was that the routine in the bedroom had established itself as nonexistent.

Natasha rubbed the back of her neck in irritation before pushing away from the table. She was alone in their suite, as she was most days. At first spending time away from the men had been a chance to reestablish her own sense of self, something that she hadn’t noticed was an issue until given time away from them. It had actually strengthened her bond with them, since they spent their evenings talking.

She’d learned a lot about her men but honestly, she was ready for more. Looking back, Natasha could see exactly what had happened. They had hooked up right before leaving the island and had been too tired the first two nights to do more than sleep. By that time, they’d established the pattern of dinner-talking-sleeping. No one wanted to be the one to break the comfort zone they’d found, particularly since Phil wanted to go slow.

Perhaps she should test how fast he’d be willing to go tonight.

_Don’t let your libido push him around._ That thought had come and gone before but tonight she wasn’t going to let it dictate her actions.

When in doubt, make a game plan. Natasha had lived by that credo all her life and it had never failed her. It had never helped her get laid before but there was a first time for everything. Grinning, she hurried off to make arrangements.

Loki came home first, which wasn’t surprising given that he worked in the building. He paused in the doorway, his eyebrows rising at the scene which greeted him. The lights were dimmer than normal and dinner was waiting on the table in warming dishes. Just the look on his face was worth her efforts; the expression of lust and pleasure that suffused his features at the sight of her made her body tingle.

“Somehow,” Loki said as he firmly shut the door, “I always imagined you in lingerie. Perhaps wearing only a smile.” He walked toward her, his green eyes drinking her in. “I never realized that you would look so sexy wearing one of Phil’s shirts.”

“I could explain why a woman wearing a man’s collared shirt is so seductive,” Natasha murmured as she rose gracefully from the couch and put her arms around his neck, “but I’d rather kiss you.”

Loki’s nostrils flared and his movements became too deliberate, too controlled. He reached down and undid the only buttons she’d bothered to fasten. When she saw her bare skin under the shirt, he groaned. “You are so cruel. Showing me this and making me wait for Phil.” Despite his words, his hands slid over her sides and up her back, then down to her ass.

“Anticipation builds character. And pleasure.” The Avenger rose on her tip-toes for a kiss, feeling his clothing rub against her naked flesh.

His kiss was hungry, his lips merging with hers with determination and abandon. “By the Bifrost, you are driving me mad.”

Now two of them were aroused and Natasha wouldn’t be alone in pushing for dirty, delicious things. As if her thoughts had summoned Phil, the door opened again, and she could hear his voice.

“-deal with this tomorrow.” He sounded annoyed and tired, and Loki stiffened just before she heard the second voice.

Melinda May came in right behind him. “No, Phil. We deal with this _tonight_. Your team needs you-” She broke off when Phil turned up the lights, revealing Loki holding Black Widow, who only wore one of his shirts. “Oh.”

Natasha sighed and pressed her forehead against Loki’s chest. “We have _got_ to get our own place.”

“The rumors _are_ true.” Melinda stared at Phil like she’d never seen him before. “You’re with _him_.”

“Yes. I am with Loki.” Phil rubbed his face wearily. “We will talk tomorrow.”

“You are destroying your team and SHIELD with this insanity.” Melinda stepped close to Phil, her face intent. “Why can’t you see that?”

“You don’t have my perspective, Melinda.” Phil glanced over at his watching lovers. “I’ll be right back, guys.” He guided Melinda back out into the hall and shut the door.

“I’m not sure he’s going to be in the mood anymore.” Loki glanced down at Natasha, his eyes going right past her face to her breasts.

“They don’t make good conversation,” Natasha told him, putting her finger under his chin and lifting his face. She wasn’t angry at him, just unwilling to let him get away with talking to her chest. As his brilliant green eyes refocused on her, she said, “They have five minutes, then you’re going after him. I don’t care if you have to drag him back like a caveman.”

“You would probably chase her off faster in that outfit.” Loki’s hands were still roaming under the thin cotton.

“Probably but Stark has cameras in that hallway and I won’t give him the satisfaction.” Natasha started to pull on the tie that Loki wore but the knot resisted. Her jotun lover smiled and the knot faded from view, becoming one of the monotonous outfits that Stark had given them. “Oh, you’re no fun!”

“I’ll find other ways to make it fun.” Loki’s vow was coupled with him scooping her into his arms.

Phil entered the room again, closing the door softly. His eyes were focused on Natasha, specifically on her ass, revealed in full by Loki’s hold on her. “Sorry about that. She got into town tonight and took the first opportunity to yell at me in person.”

“You okay?” Natasha asked, feeling her lust starting to wane in the face of his exhaustion.

“I will be as soon as you guys include me in your plans.” He smiled and the lines of weariness started to fade.

Loki stepped forward and set Natasha down so they could hold each other; predictably, Phil’s hand darted under the shirt to touch her bare skin. Natasha reached up and pulled at the knot of his tie.

“What is your fascination with ties?” the jotun asked her, nuzzling his nose near her ear.

“It’s called a fetish.” She eased the knot loose and undid the top button of Phil’s shirt. As always, the sight set her heart to racing.

“You’re a little strange but in a good way.” Phil tipped her face up and kissed her. A spark of heat pooled in her belly and she couldn’t wait to get to bed.

“I think I need some ties.” Loki’s lips brushed over her neck.

“Oh, you do. Later.” Phil slipped his hand behind Loki’s head and pulled him down for a kiss. “Much later.”

Loki picked Phil up like he just had Natasha, and she had to laugh at the astonished look on Phil’s face. “You are overdressed,” Loki told him, missing the meaning of the expression. “Natasha, can you get the door?”

She choose the spare bedroom since she’d set it up for them. Loki stopped in the doorway, taking in the candles and various toys on the bed. He looked at her and she chuckled at the uncertain expression on his face. “I didn’t know what you’d like,” she said, moving to the bed and picking up a silken blindfold. As she ran it through her fingers, she purred, “I like being prepared. For anything.”

He set Phil down and both men joined her at the bed. “So I see,” Loki murmured, holding up one of Phil’s ties she’d added to the toys. Phil took it from him and slipped it around her neck, under the shirt. Heat pooled in her belly as he left the ends hanging down from her shoulders, the soft fabric almost caressing her.

Loki picked up a butt plug and looked at it speculatively. “We don’t have to get creative,” Phil told him.

“I just wanted to be ready if you did.” Natasha took it from him with a smile.

“I want to tie someone up.” Loki’s voice was soft and taut with desire.

“Or we can get creative now.” Phil moved behind Natasha. “You ready for that?”

“Sure, so long as I get to be on the other side of the knots later.” She smiled as Phil slipped the shirt down her arms only to stop and wrap up her arms with the garment. With a gentle grip on her elbow, he led her to the bed and helped her sit against the head. “What are you planning?” she asked him with a smile.

“Fun.” Phil kissed her. When he rose, Loki held the rope she’d gotten. He knelt on the bed and lashed her to the headboard while Phil moved away the other toys. Loki left the tie around her shoulders when he rose and joined her other lover.

Phil and Loki faced each other and kissed deeply. Natasha scowled as she saw where this was going. Still kissing, the men undressed one another, Loki taking particular care removing Phil’s tie. Once naked, Loki trailed his fingers down Phil’s chest, over his scar. Phil held his breath as the jotun leaned forward and kissed the white mark.

“You don’t need-” Phil started to pull his face away.

“I want to.” Loki’s green eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way that Natasha had never seen. “If you are okay with it.” Phil nodded and Loki resumed, his lips following the line of demarcation down his body. As he did, he used gentle pushes to move Phil to the bed. “Tell me to stop,” the jotun murmured as he knelt between Phil’s legs, “if I go too fast.”

“Sure.” Phil sounded breathless and Natasha had the feeling that “not too fast” had gotten swallowed by pure lust.

Loki bent one of Phil’s legs up before leaning over and licking his cock. Natasha fidgeted against her bindings as she watched one lover give the other a blow job. Each groan and caress made her more anxious and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand it. When Phil came and Loki drank him down without hesitation, she started to work on getting loose in earnest.

“Oh, no.” Loki lifted his head and grinned at her. “Not so fast.” He scooted over to her as Phil rolled onto his side, watching with a satisfied expression. He untied her from the bed but left her arms bound. “How would you like to be pleasured?”

“Fuck me hard.” Sweet was nice but it had been too long for her.

Loki grinned and glanced at Phil. “Let me know when you’re ready again.”

“Unbelievably, I am now.” Phil sounded surprised, even as he wrapped his fingers around his hard cock.

Loki looked back down at her. “Does ‘hard’ include having both of your men in you?”

The thought alone nearly made her orgasm. “Oh, yeah,” she murmured. “I want both of the men I love to fuck me now.”

“I think,” Loki murmured as he lifted her off the bed so that Phil could position himself, “that we can manage that, and more.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of their first night together, and Steve gets what he wants, too.

It was almost nine before Phil surrendered to the grumbling of his stomach. He slipped out into the living area and checked the hot plates. The slices of chicken breast inside were still hot and smelled delicious, and he grabbed some of the steamed broccoli and the bucket of strawberries out of the ice. He had to press the cold container against his bare side to balance it all but he made it back to the room without any spills.

“I’ve changed my mind.” Loki lifted his head from the bed, grinning widely. “I am hungry.”

“You can make the next run to the kitchen, then.” Phil hopped back on the bed and laid out the dishes carefully on the sheets.

Natasha rolled over enough to take a slice of meat and pop it in her mouth. “Mmm, I’ll have to remember to order this dish again.”

“I can try cooking it.” Phil regretted those words the second he tried the food. His skill in the kitchen was not up to the task of duplicating this meal. “Or just order it from Stark’s kitchens.”

“I can’t move.” That had been Loki’s initial status when they had collapsed on the sheets together after the last round. “You two have broken me.”

“I doubt that.” Natasha propped herself up on her elbow; Phil tried to put a piece of broccoli up his nose because he was watching her body, not his food.

_Not my best moment_ , he admitted as he covertly wiped the water off his face. “I’m guessing you broke yourself, Loki,” Phil told him, even as he leaned over with a sliver of meat. “You were pretty energetic.” Loki took the food from Phil’s hand, capturing his fingers to suck the sauce off. “Keep that up and I’ll be wired for more.”

Natasha glanced at him and he saw the concern in her gaze before she dropped her eyes. He knew what she was thinking because he was thinking it too: Phil had just engaged in sex with the energy and stamina of a teen boy, not a man his apparent age. It was one more subtle sign that something was wrong with him.

“More?” Loki actually found the strength to roll up onto his side and start reaching for food. His ankle tracker glinted brightly as he repositioned himself. “Garrett must have built the worst memories of sex for me.”

“How so?” Natasha asked, biting into a strawberry. Phil forgot what they were talking about for a second.

“They were nothing like what we just did.” Loki seemed to need a moment to reorient his thoughts, too. “Short, unsatisfying. Just kissing you, either of you, brings me more delight than any of those empty memories.”

“How do they compare to your experiences in Asgard?” Phil asked curiously.

“I didn’t have any experiences before tonight.” He shrugged, more interested in the food now than old memories.

Phil’s gut clenched and he and Natasha traded startled looks. “You are - were a virgin?” Natasha asked sharply.

Loki laughed as he sat up fully. “I know that means something to your culture but it has no value to mine.” He brushed a thumb over Phil’s lip. “If my brother is to be believed, I have no interest in sex unless romantically bound to someone. That does mesh with my actions thus far.”

“Wow. I’m not sure how to feel about deflowering a demi-god.” Natasha bit into another strawberry. After a moment, she said, “I think I’ll go with proud.”

Phil chuckled but his good humor fled when Loki said, “Phil, what did that woman want?”

The SHIELD agent studied his male partner, sitting naked on top of the bed they had thoroughly defiled. Loki waited patiently, eating pieces of chicken and broccoli. “Melinda May is my second in command. She’s been leading the team in my absence. She is concerned that my associations indicate I’m not fit to lead at all.”

“Sounds like she is loath to give up her power.” Loki dismissed her actions with a shrug.

Natasha made a negative noise around a mouthful of fruit. When she swallowed, she said, “Not May’s style. She’s not in SHIELD for power or glory.”

“No, she really believes that I’m compromised.” Phil looked sad and a little depressed.

“Do I need to talk to her?” Loki’s offer belied the irritated look on his face.

“No.” Phil shook his head and his expression shifted to one of determination. “I need to fix this on my own. Somehow.”

Natasha reached toward him. “If there’s anything.” She didn’t need to finish that sentence; he already knew the ending. Loki nodded in agreement, his mouth full, before offering his hand.

“I know.” Phil’s chest tightened and he couldn’t have stopped his smile as he took both their hands. Why would he want to? He was the luckiest man alive.

 

*  *  *

 

Loki dodged around computer techs pushing a cart, fluidly keeping his plate and turkey club sandwich level. The two techs were so preoccupied with their overloaded trolley that they failed to realize it was him. _Just as well._ Most of the staff still edged around him like they expected him to skin them alive.

He ducked into the conference room that Steve was using as his sitrep room. Photos and maps adorned one wall while a second wall showed Bucky Barnes from every angle, before and after his stint as the Winter Soldier. Stacks of old folders were piled neatly on the table. Sam waited within, glancing up from a laptop and giving him an uneasy smile. His dark eyes dropped to the sandwich. “Hey, been meaning to try that. Is it any good?”

It was amusing how this mortal tried to treat him as if he were another mortal, and Loki couldn’t help the wicked smile that crossed his lips. “I’ll let you know.” He sat down at a clear spot and took a bite, pausing to assess. It was too sweet, as was all Midgardian food of the Western persuasion, but he nodded. As mortal food went, it was acceptable. “I declare it good.”

“So do I.” Steve sat down at the table, setting his own turkey club before him. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“I don’t know if I’ll go that far.” Loki took another bite before asking, “So what grand intel are we parsing today?”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Sam noted with a smile.

Memories of yesterday evening’s sex with Phil and Natasha slipped into his mind, not that they were ever far away. “Someone had a _very_ good night.” Loki stifled a laugh as both men caught his meaning and struggled with their discomfort.

“I’m going to get my own lunch.” Sam hastily left the room.

“How was your debriefing today?” Steve seemed curious rather than nosey and very eager to change the subject.

“Same as yesterday.” Which was to say he’d been asked the same questions as yesterday and all the previous meetings by a group of SHIELD agents. He understood that it was an interrogation technique used to verify truth; the more often a liar had to lie, the more likely he was to make a mistake. Normally the process bored and annoyed him to the point of considering murdering everyone in the room. Last night had put him in such a good mood that he almost hadn’t minded. Just thinking of joy he’d found in the sexual touch of his partners left him light-hearted.

Steve nodded. “The agents who questioned you brought more files.” He pointed at a legal box next to the door.

“Excellent. More dust and mold and old photographs.” Despite his words, Loki smiled.

“Actually, I wanted you to look over those surveillance pictures that you didn’t have a chance to see yesterday.” Steve tilted his head. “That sound good?”

“It does.” Loki finished his meal and logged into the computer. Pulling up the pictures, he drew up the folder with yesterday’s images. These were provided by Stark, pulled from wherever he could find or steal them. C.I.A., F.B.I., F.S.B., SHIELD - no one was safe from the billionaire’s intrusions.

The first picture appeared to be some kind of drug deal going down, with the participants caught showing each other the wares. Loki focused on each person in turn, referencing the images of Bucky as needed. The image yielded nothing and he flagged it as complete and moved onward.

Sam returned, ate, and joined Steve on going through the box from SHIELD. Once Loki had completed yesterday’s images, he started on today’s. All three of the men would see them before they were considered completed.

He clicked open a new picture and nearly groaned aloud. It was a wide angle shot of a fighting pit, complete with packed stands. There were probably a hundred faces to examine. He needed fortification for this. Loki got up, stretched and got some water; he felt better for a moment, right until he sat back down.

He looked at the two men fighting. The first was Asian and lean, far too lean to be their prey. The second was a Caucasian and of the right build. Loki took another glance at the pictures of the Winter Soldier before studying the man again.

_Yes, yes, the shoulders are right._ The man wore a long-sleeved shirt, not your usual apparel in a pit fight. He also wore gloves but Loki thought he caught a glint of metal at the wrist. His heart speeding in anticipation, he look another look at the face, which was mostly turned away from him. The fighter’s hair was shorn short, as if he hadn’t bothered with a haircut and just took an electric trimmer to his entire head.

“Steve.” Loki glanced at the super-soldier. “Come look at this.”

Captain America leaned over his shoulder and a second after seeing the fighter breathed, “It’s him. It’s Bucky. Where was this?”

“Siberia, yesterday evening.” Loki started to glance up again but another face in the crowd popped out at him. Behind him, Steve was already talking, making plans but Loki ignored them as he zoomed in as much as he could. “We have a problem.”

“What?” Sam asked.

Loki pointed at the woman he’d spotted. Ricochet was watching the fight avidly, a knowing smirk on her face. “HYDRA found him first.”


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One man is lost and another regained.

Bucky knew he was being followed. It happened, usually when someone caught wind of the arm and thought to offer him a job because of it - or the one time they’d tried to take the arm. He smiled a little. Once he’d figured out their intent, he’d cut loose on them. It had been most satisfactory.

It also left the kind of trail that could be followed. He mostly avoided fighting at all, leaving town when someone got too close.

The problem was that they’d been following him for three days now. He’d left Irkutsk by rented car within an hour of catching sight of a tail, which really burned him because he’d actually made some good money in the underground pit fights. He had been in Novosibrisk long enough to get a room but had caught signs of another tail and had rabbited. This time he’d taken the rail to Omsk. He almost never came back to a place he’d been before but he had a supply drop in Omsk. After grabbing the bug-out bag from the train station locker, he’d gone from being Oleg Lukin to being Vasily Karpov.

Bucky still hadn’t seen any tails but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being followed. It didn’t help that he’d slept maybe six hours in the last seventy-two. He could keep going for a while but even his brain needed downtime. He ducked into a busy McDonald’s and ordered a meal, then considered what to do while eating.

Running was his first and most obvious option. At this point, he could even leave Russia, since he now had a passport that could pass customs inspections. There were pit fights in other countries. The thought made him grimace. He knew Russia, knew the people to talk to here. Leaving meant starting over.

_Or you fight._ It was possible, in Omsk like nowhere else in the country. He could look up Nicoli and see if he could borrow a few friends to help with a little ambush. Nic would ask questions about who and why, though.

Scrunching his face a little, Bucky mentally tallied the money he had on him. It was probably enough to hire a few guys from Lev, who wouldn’t ask questions if money was involved.

His decision made, Bucky pulled himself to his feet and left. He was only two blocks away when he realized that there wasn’t a lot of people on the street given the time of evening. _Fuck_. There was however, an attractive redhead who intercepted him and said, “Excuse me, do you speak English? I am _so_ lost.”

Her accent was American. Her body was the kind guys painted on the sides of their bombers. She was lost in Omsk and just happened to grab him for help. He wore clothing from an Irkutsk thrift store. He hadn’t shaved in days - or showered. His body language warned people away. All of that, and she went to him for _help_?

Bucky didn’t believe in that kind of coincidence. He glanced over his left shoulder as if looking behind himself to verify she was talking to him but the motion was a cover to let him put his left foot back. When he turned back, it was in a sharp motion that ended when his fist hit her solar plexus.

The woman went flying and he burst into a run, not bothering to watch her land. He’d felt her armor when he’d hit her and he wouldn’t have worried about her anyway. He was way more worried about himself.

Bucky’s familiarity with Omsk helped with more than contacts; he swerved off the sidewalk to dash through a housing complex, his enhanced legs eating up the ground. Instead of going all the way through, he jumped through a hole in a fence and through a tight cluster of buildings. They ended at Oktyabrya, a busy street and he dropped into a fast, purposeful walk, just like the other people on the street.

A high whistle gave him a millisecond of warning and it wasn’t enough. Something hit his left arm and there was a pop and a sizzle. His arm went numb, the electronics failing to provide data anymore, and Bucky cursed.

“Oh, my god!” The man behind him stared at the arrow sticking out of Bucky’s dead arm. With a growl, he snapped it off and started to run again.

As he tried to flee his sniper, he ran through the list of probables. They knew he was American and that he liked women. The real problem was what did he know? The answer was “almost nothing”. Who the hell used arrows? Knowing that would help, but all he could think of was a vague recollection that SHIELD had an archer.

He rounded the corner going fast and nearly ran into a black man. It wasn’t the other’s color that stopped him, though in Russia that was always worth a second look. The guy was messed up, wearing a black suit with devices attached to his skin. He lunged at Bucky, his hands reaching for Bucky’s useless left arm.

The one-armed pit fighter spun and put his right elbow into the base of the guy’s skull. Without seeing the result, Bucky started running again. He can’t stop or that sniper will take him out-

The guy jumped and landed just behind Bucky, falling on him. As he went down, he wrapped his arms around Bucky’s legs. The former assassin fell and was face down on the concrete with Messed-up Man on his legs. It wasn’t a good place and he rolled over to fix that.

Three arrows impacted the concrete around him, faster than Bucky ever thought someone could fire. They all missed him but when he tried to sit up to punch Messed-up, he found they hadn’t missed his jacket.

“I fucking _liked_ this jacket!” he snarled as he sat up anyway, tearing the heavy fabric like paper. His left was his strong hand but he can still punch with the right, and his fist slammed into Messed-up’s face with the force of a sledgehammer. It wasn’t enough; he had to get this guy off of him-  
An arm snaked around his throat and tightened. “I thought men from your era wouldn’t hit a lady,” a woman hissed in his ear.

Bucky didn’t bother with a pithy remark. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm open. He was able to breathe until Messed-up grabbed his arm away. The woman’s arm pulled tight again, cutting off his air.

_I’m sorry, Steve._ His last thought was cold comfort as he slipped into darkness.

 

*  *  *

 

“I’m sorry.” Phil hated delivering news like this and it was worse when he had to give it to Steve Rogers. He wished that he could have asked Tasha for advice but she was gone on an Avengers mission. “The Russian team found cameras that caught the footage of them nabbing Barnes.” He held out the microdrive to Steve but Loki was the one who took it and plugged it into a computer.

Steve sagged. “I should have gone.”

“You would have been in Irkutsk like the SHIELD team when they were nabbing him.” Phil watched as Loki started to review the camera footage intently. “He was gone by the time you’d seen that picture of him.”

The super-soldier shook his head. “I could have found him.”

Phil didn’t answer. Instead Loki said, “Dethlok and Ricochet and Hawkeye.” He looked thoughtful, glancing up at Phil. “What else?”

_You read me so well._ Phil gave Loki a half-smile as he added, “The good news is that the Russian team caught someone who they’re shipping to us. They say he was part of the mission.”

“We’re not sure about that?” Sam asked.

Phil made an exasperated sound. “The SHIELD teams left in Russia are exceptionally paranoid and unwilling to share intel. As such, they aren’t part of our system; they’re almost like an independent branch of the agency. That’s got to change but no one’s had the authority to change it. _Yet_.”

Steve frowned. “So they picked up a guy and are willing to give him to us but won’t give us enough intel to make an ID ahead of time?”

“Correct. He could be no one or he could be someone.” Phil smiled thinly, not adding that the reason that the Russians were sharing was because he had implied that Captain America would personally come over there if they didn’t. The Russians had a national phobia of Steve and while Phil wasn’t sure why he was more than happy to use it. “In fact, he should be landing now.”

“Shall we go up to the landing pad and see?” Loki smirked, then paused. “Am I allowed to stand on the landing pad?”

“Let’s find out.” Phil let the other two men toward the elevator. On the way, Steve pulled out a cell phone and quickly sent a text to Sam, updating him. By the time they reached the helipad, the dark-skinned man had joined them.

The chopper swung around the tower once before settling on the landing pad. The ramp opened and three men walked down. Two were armed while the third was restrained with a hood over his head. Phil assessed what he could: a young man and built like an operative, Caucasian and tall. Next to him, Loki stiffened. Phil glanced up to see his lover glaring at the prisoner.

He had a bad feeling about who it was before one of the Russians pulled off the hood to reveal Grant Ward. Phil felt like someone had kicked him in the gut as the pain of Ward’s betrayal rushed back. The traitor looked at the four men waiting for him and paled. “Oh, fuck me,” he whispered.

“No thank you,” Loki said coolly. “If you were interested, you should have offered before Barton tried to kill me.”

“Logan-”

“Loki!” The jotun took a single step forward and smiled coldly. “Don’t get me wrong, Grant. I’m glad to see you. In fact, there’s a matter of great importance to discuss and you owe me one.”

“Fuck,” Grant muttered, his shoulder slumping.

“And after you tell us about the operation that grabbed Bucky Barnes, you’re going to tell us everything else you know about HYDRA,” Phil told him. This time, there was defiance in Ward’s eyes. That wouldn’t last. It never did.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grant talks and Tony talks too much.

Things were still not good between her and Stark, but when Loki wasn’t in the room, they could pretend. “I see why they called us,” the billionaire announced to the room. “Clearly, they need me.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and looked at Thor but he seemed to have missed the backhanded insult. In Stark’s mind, she and Thor were the muscle, here to protect him while he did the real work. _Is it just me or has he gotten more arrogant recently?_

It didn’t matter; they were on mission. ‘They’ was the government of Thailand and Natasha understood their request as she looked around the area. The small warehouse was mostly empty but a large screen glowed in the center of the room. In glowing purple, the same marks that Phil had used to open the door shone brightly.

“I’ve seen this power source before.” Stark turned to face her suddenly, the white eyes of his suit glaring accusingly. “On the island where we found you.”

“Interesting.” Natasha wasn’t great at many social interactions but she was great at lying. “So they’re related?”

“Yes.” Stark’s helmet remained pointed at her but that didn’t mean she had Stark’s attention anymore. He could be looking at anything inside that metal facepiece. “Do you have any insight to offer?”

“It doesn’t look human.” Natasha took a step forward, gazing at the marks and ignoring the feeling that he knew she lied. “Can you translate it?”

“No.” Stark said, just as Thor said, “No, but it is familiar.”

Iron Man looked at his teammate. “Familiar? Is it Asgardian?”

“No. Something else.” Thor shook his head. “I do not remember. I will have to go home, consult with the scholars.”

Stark nodded and the Asgardian left. “Meanwhile, I’m going to box this up, bring it back to the lab-”

“No. I wouldn’t.” She kept her voice calm and cool despite the panic that bubbled up in her. The last thing she wanted was for Phil to have another fugue moment and try to work this screen - to show others he wasn’t human. “Tony, do you really want that in the middle of Manhattan when we don’t know what it does?”

The metal head tilted and she could almost see his sardonic smile. “You have no idea what I already keep there, do you? Trust me, this is pretty tame.”

“I really don’t think its safe.” Natasha wondered if she could warn Phil before they got there, if it would even matter. _This is not fair. We haven’t fixed the house arrest thing with Loki yet. We’re not ready for another problem._ There was no heat in her mental rant; she knew better than to expect fairness from life. She just wanted to keep track.

“Natasha, I wasn’t born yesterday. I know how to secure a lab and protect the city from what’s inside.” Stark sighed loudly enough that his microphone caught it and his faceplate popped open. “Is this about your boy toys?”

_How did he know?_ It took another beat for her to catch that he meant both Phil and Loki, not just Phil. “No!”

“Because I know you think I’m a jerk and irresponsible,” Tony said quickly and Natasha was surprised to hear pain in his words. “But do you really think that I’d be that blind? This isn’t the Tesseract. The energy output on this thing is about a Cray computer, and if it blows, it’ll take out a room and nothing more. Do you think that because I wouldn’t support who you have in your bed?”

“This has nothing to do with that.” Natasha crossed her arms. “I’m insulted that you’d even think that.”

“You haven’t been the same since he-”

“Of course I’m not!” Natasha glowered at him. “I was on a deserted island for a month and fell in love! Are you the same person who you were before Pepper?”

“You know, she told me once that you know you’re in a good relationship because you’re a better person because of your partner. You’re not a better person anymore, Natasha.” Stark pointed downward emphatically. “He’s bringing you and Phil down to his level.”

It was strange but she could almost hear the snap as he severed her final thread of patience. “Fuck you. And the suit you rode in on.” Natasha turned and left the building, feeling better than she had in a long time.

It was time to talk to Thor and change the circumstances of Loki’s detainment on Earth.

 

*  *  *

 

Grant stared at his hands, feeling sick and scared. His ribs hurt from the pounding the Russians had given him but his pride ached more. They’d gotten him because someone in the Omsk station had spotted the gun under his jacket and told the police. He’d figured they’d hold him for a few hours, maybe overnight, but SHIELD had gotten to him before they’d released him. Now he in Coulson’s custody.

Worse, he had lost his chance to stop Garrett.

He was trying not to speculate about Loki’s presence. He was trying really hard not to think about what that meant for him and his continued lifespan.

The room was pretty basic - sterile, blank walls, a single metal table with a bar welded to it for the restraints. Grant had already tested them. They were solid from the cuffs around his wrists to the table’s bar and he knew his escape would have to come through some other means.

The door to the interrogation room opened and Phil entered. Grant felt his stomach twist with guilt and shame but that was washed away by a wave of fear when Loki entered behind him. “So, you jumped ship to SHIELD?” he asked with biting sarcasm.

Loki smiled unpleasantly. “I’m here in a consultant role.” He perched on the table. “How have you been, Grant?”

“Pretending we’re friends?” The words hurt Grant; he’d really liked Logan. He’d missed him, even as he’d hoped he was dead. It was better to lose Logan than to know he’d been turned into the enemy. “See you kept the haircut.”

“You told me that we were friends. You were lying to me the entire time. You have no idea how much that hurt when I woke up.” Those familiar green eyes bore into him. “Was it all a lie? Did you care at all ever?”

Grant thought about lying. He wanted to. It was on the tip of his tongue to say ‘no’ and cut all ties with the man he’d called friend. He would have told the truth but things had changed in HYDRA. Garrett had gone weird and Logan had been the one other sane person and suddenly, Grant was free of HYDRA without having to leave it. All he had to do was give up and start talking. To stop lying. To start being himself.

It was a novel and terrifying concept. “Yeah, I cared. Logan was a hell of a fun guy.”

“Then you owe me this.” Loki’s next words are not what he expected. “Where are they taking Barnes?”

The way the alien stared at him was Logan, from the tilt of his head to the intent, unblinking stare. Logan sat right in front of him, and Grant was ashamed when he felt the tears prick his eyes. “The Chair is in Sudan.” He was betraying Garrett but it felt right. “The warlord Samuel Garang is HYDRA. In exchange for loyalty, he gets weapons and funding for his war. He keeps things volatile in that region.”

Loki blinked. “Is that where I was . . .” He seemed to be at a loss for the right word.

“Conditioned? Yeah. We moved you to the Bus once it took and were in the air when you awoke.” Grant’s lips twitched in a bemused smile. “It took three tries, which is two more than anyone else.”

Logan was gone in a blink and the malicious enemy returned with a razor-sharp smile. “Good to know I was no easy prey.” He tilted his head slightly and said, “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Phil stared at him, arms crossed and silent. Disappointment radiated from him like heat and Grant swallowed. “I argued against them rewriting you, Coulson.”

“That doesn’t erase the betrayal you committed. I’m not talking about me.” The agent planted his hands on the table and leaned forward until Grant had to tilt his head back. “This is about what you did to SHIELD.”

Grant had expected this and there was nothing good to say to it. Telling Coulson it was for the greater good would only incite a fight and Grant was not in the position for any kind of conflict. So he kept silent until Phil had drawn himself back and headed for the door. Loki followed him.

“Wait.” The word burst out of his mouth before he could stop it. Clearing his throat, Grant realized that yes, he was really going to do this: he was really going to commit this last betrayal of his organization. He’d been wrestling with this since he found out and now that he was out, he couldn’t stop Garrett if he actually carried through with his plans.

Phil and Loki both stopped; the former had an expression of scorn and distaste, while Loki looked like Logan again, his expression curious. “Yes?” Loki asked.

“There’s something else you should know. Garrett’s not given up on HYDRA’s belief that they need to convince the world to accept HYDRA’s protection.” Grant had to phrase his words carefully, unless he wanted them to stop listening to what he was saying. “He has a new plan.”

“I think he overestimated how calmly people would have accepted the Insight Program,” Phil remarked dryly, raising an eyebrow.

Loki was the one who pressed him to answer. “Grant, does he have a plan?”

“Yeah.” Grant smirked. “He’s taking a page from your book, Loki. He’s planning an alien invasion.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue plan is formed.

“How reliable is his intel?” Steve asked the room, tensing slightly. Normally, this wasn’t an issue but the room held a volatile mix of personalities.

“He could be lying.” Loki looked nonchalant about the possibility, twirling a stylus in his fingers. He paused to tap the tablet in front of him, frowning slightly.

Steve thought of that as the godling’s thinking face and left him alone for now, turning to Phil. “What do you think?”

“I think we check the lead on Barnes.” Phil glanced toward Natasha, who hadn’t said a word since entering the room. She was glaring at Tony and the billionaire was glaring right back. They’d clearly had another fight and Steve prayed it wouldn’t get in the way. “If that is correct, we can follow up on the other?”

“Follow up on what?” Tony made air quotes as he mockingly repeated, “‘Alien invasion’ isn’t good information. He admitted that he has no details beyond Garrett having some plan based off, I’ll note, what Loki did.” Thor shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing at his brother as if fearing a blow up.

“Yes, but my plan wouldn’t have worked.” Loki glanced up when shocked silence filled the room. He took in the looks, realized what he’d said and who he’d said it in front of, and flushed slightly. Clearing his throat, he murmured, “I didn’t know that then.”

Bruce frowned. “But Garrett would so why-”

“Can we focus on Bucky, guys?” Steve hated how small and fragile his voice sounded. It worked, though, pulling Loki and Tony back from whatever showdown had been building.

“So we hit Garang and take him out.” Tony was already seeing the end of the fight, before he hit the battlefield. “Done. What are we waiting for?”

“This is a SHIELD op-” Phil started to say. Steve blinked at him, not sure if he’d heard that right.

“Nuh-uh, we don’t pull agency bullshit on friends,” Tony snarled. “If you want to help, help. Otherwise, stay out of our way.’

“I wasn’t pulling agency bullshit. The intel comes from SHIELD, from me.” Phil pressed his hands to the table. “I want a coordinated mission, not some bomb and burn. We need to get Bucky out. We need to secure the Chair so they can’t do this again. And we need to do it in such a way that they don’t kill or move Bucky or the Chair before we hit them.”

Steve took a deep breath to calm himself; he felt Sam put a hand on his arm. Phil was trying to help, in his own way. Loki tapped more insistently at the tablet before looking up at Tony. “Will you grant JARVIS permission to post an image for me on the room’s screen?”

“Just so long as its not from your guys’ personal porn collection.” Tony’s words were barely out of his mouth before an image of a third-world city block appeared.

“This,” Loki said as the largest building in the center of the image tinged with red, “is Garang’s compound. It’s in the heart of a small town in the territory claimed by both Sudan and South Sudan, making it a perfect place for someone intent on destabilizing the region.”

Steve felt his chest constrict. “We’ll have to worry about civilians.”

“Yes. Stealth entry by a covert team who would secure the chair and Barnes.” Natasha spoke in clipped, terse words. “Then the bunker busters enter and pull the attention away from the guys inside, so they can protect the assets when the hostiles try to move or damage them.”

“Assets?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing.

“Sorry.” Natasha gave him an apologetic half-smile. “I slipped into agency-talk.”

“The big team is Thor, Stark, Sam, Bruce, and Tony.” Phil glanced around the table, knowing that was the easy part. “The covert team is Natasha, Rogers, May, myself, and Loki.”

There was a beat of silence; Tony looked around expectantly and said, “So I have to be the bad guy? Fine. Bad idea, Phil.”

“It’s not terrible when you consider I cast illusions.” Loki met Tony’s glare without flinching. “Makes sneaking around easier rather than harder.”

The billionaire snorted. “Yeah, you’re not inspiring any confidence in me by touting your ability to deceive.”

“If anyone’s getting left behind tonight, it’s you, Stark.” Natasha spoke like a woman delivering an ultimatum not a suggestion.

“That’s how it’s going down? Yeah, I can see that, given that your boyfriend is taking charge of this mission and he’ll make sure that your other boyfriend comes along.” Tony made a flippant gesture that bordered on rude. “Then those that don’t like it can fuck off on the suit they rode in on, huh?”

That was the last straw. Steve rose and planted his hands on the table. “This is not a SHIELD operation. This is not about getting out that device or assets. This is about rescuing my best friend, who is probably having his memory wiped as we speak.” An aura of shame descended on the room.

“So if you’re making the calls, make them.” Tony looked relieved at the change in the room, sitting back a little. He seemed confident about Steve’s choices.

“We are going to go in as Phil said.” Steve ignored the anger that flashed over Tony’s face. “He’s right that we can’t leave the mind washing device. But to destroy it. I’m not sure SHIELD should have that temptation.”

“So you actually want us to destroy it.” Sam sat up in his chair as he sought clarity.

Steve nodded, watching the others. There was a pause before Thor said, “I will gladly destroy the machine that enslaved my brother.”

“When you put it that way, Thor, I have to agree.” Phil nodded to Steve. “If you want it destroyed, we’ll do that.”

“You guys have fun.” Tony’s first coherent words made Steve’s heart sink.

“Tony, please.” Steve knew he was giving him a pleading look but he didn’t stop. It would be worth it to get Tony to come. To get Bucky back, he’d do worse.

“Please, what? Give me one good reason. One!” Tony held up his finger as if he worried that Steve couldn’t count without a visual representation.

“Because he’s willing to help and I will take all the help I can get.” Steve glanced at Loki. “If I didn’t take him, and we didn’t get Buck, I’d never forgive myself. Tony, please.”

They held gazes for a long moment, Tony’s angry and Steve’s hopeful. “Fuck!” Tony snapped sharply, looking pissed. “God damnit Rogers. Fine. Fine! I’m in. But you’re explaining it to Pepper if Loki turns me into a goat or something.”

“I’d never turn you into a goat.” Loki smiled wickedly. “There are so many other uses for you.”

“Great.” Tony glared at the Asgardian. “Now I’m gonna have nightmares. And I’m gonna tell Pepper why her sleep gets interrupted.” Loki raised an eyebrow skeptically and Tony grinned. “I’ll let Phil and Natasha tell you about Pepper and her temper.”

It was the first remotely positive interaction he’d seen them have and Steve dared to hope they could work together to save Bucky.

 

*  *  *

 

This felt like natural and right, and Loki wondered if this had been his fate all along. If so, the Norn had weaved a bizarre path through life. It was almost easier to believe that random chance had brought him here.

Natasha crouched in front of him, her pistols held in her hands. Loki had the assault rifle Phil had loaned him pointed to the right of his own feet. It left the weapon ready but minimized the chance that he’d shoot an ally.

Phil touched his back lightly, just below his tactical vest. Loki glanced back and his lover gestured to the right, down an alley. A man was working on lighting a cigarette, the staccato flicks of his failing lighter showing only flashes of him. It was enough for Loki to see the assault rifle hanging from his shoulder. He touched Natasha’s shoulder before she scurried away and got separated from them.

The godling focused a touch more magic, feeling the strain of holding so many illusions at once. Attempting to hide five people from everyone took far more effort than most people considered, as Loki had to adjust for each potential angle he had to angle. This time he kept it simple, darkening the shadows his team hid in until no human could pierce them. The lighter ignited suddenly and the guard lit his cigarette. Loki watched as he glanced casually toward them while drawing his first puff, then disappeared around a corner.

Phil breathed a soft sigh of relief and tapped his back twice in the all-clear. Loki released the extra bit of magic before looking back to verify that Steve and May were still with them. After the conversation he’d seen between her and Phil, he was surprised that she’d been cooperative in the field, much less come at all. She may not have liked him but aside from some glowering at him, she was the consummate professional. Steve could actually sneak, something Loki wouldn’t have guessed before today.

All the ducklings were accounted for and he gave Natasha the all-clear. She slipped into motion again, silent as the shadows around them. Loki followed after her, feeling oddly content despite going into combat with both of his lovers. Nothing would happen to them; he was here to see to that.

Their path continued through the compound, Natasha following the map in her head. She came to a door and paused; Loki put his head near it and listened as well. When she glanced up, he shook his head in the negative. Her lockpicks appeared in her hand as if summoned there by magic, her deft fingers starting to pick at the lock.

Loki turned his focus to their immediate area, strengthening the illusion of the empty wall. They were right in the open, right where anyone could see-

Clint Barton came around the corner of the building. Ricochet walked to his right, laughing at something he was say, while Dethlok followed, a dark wraith. Everyone froze as the three came toward them. Of the three, Dethlock was the greatest threat right now. What he saw, his HYDRA operator saw. Loki drew more reserves of magic, focusing on the way the wall would look to the three from their angle, the way that the shadows fell across the door, or any of a million details that Hawkeye could spot.

He saw Phil move and turned his head fractionally to see Steve quickly shake his head. Natasha waited with her picks still in the lock, holding her uncomfortable crouch without a sign of muscle fatigue. The three continued up the path toward them, their conversation audible as they came closer.

“-of my own.” Ricochet giggled happily. Perhaps she’d been laughing at something she’d said, instead of Barton. The man did have a vaguely bored expression on his face, as if he wasn’t listening to her anymore.

“Yeah, exciting stuff.” He tossed a piece of kisra in the air, catching the flatbread in his mouth. He froze, in mid-step and mid-chew, and looked right at Loki. The jotun put his finger on the safety, ready to release it and start firing. The only thing that stayed his hand is that Barton looked suspicious, not terrified.

“What’s wrong?” Ricochet asked. Dethlok stood mute and powerless behind them.

“I dunno. I have a bad feeling suddenly.” Barton took a look around the area, his eyes sweeping over them more than once as he tried to find the source of his uneasiness.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the rescue, and the end of the first part of the story.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re leaving as soon as my Bucky is ready.” Ricochet grinned like a cat anticipating the sweetest cream. Loki took another quick look at Steve. The super-soldier looked on the verge of jumping the woman.

“We should have pulled out the second we heard about Grant.” Barton dropped the rest of the kisra on the ground and pulled his bow. The weapon popped open with a flex of his arm.

“Buck wasn’t done cooking yet.” Ricochet put a hand on his arm. “Hawk, chill. Grant won’t break that fast. He might have been dumb enough to get caught but he’s John’s loyal dog.”

“He’d just started. We could have stopped and moved. We _should_ have.” Barton started for the door; Natasha yanked her picks and pressed herself back against Loki. He took a half step backward, slipping his hand around her waist and drawing her with him until he brushed Phil. No one else had Natasha’s skill at moving in perfect silence and didn’t dare a twitch. Loki had moved only to make room for her to clear the doorway and he was almost as quiet as her.

Regardless, Barton had caught something and he froze again. “Oh, good grief.” Ricochet pushed past him and walked to the door. She was close enough for Loki to smell the perfume she’d applied that morning. “If you want to stand out here being paranoid, have fun. I’m going inside.”

“I’m coming with you.” Barton took another tense look around the area and followed her. Dethlok stayed one step behind Barton, his eyes on the back of the HYDRA agent’s head. The door closed and this time, Loki heard the sharp sound of a deadbolt being thrown. Natasha rolled her eyes at the sound, annoyed.

Loki turned to Steve and signaled the issue. He finished with a single question: _Up?_ Loki was sure they could get on the roof and from there inside, easily. They’d been trying to avoid that for the ease of access, because many people slept and hung out on their roofs.

Steve nodded sharply and Loki shouldered his rifle. Cupping his hands, he helped the other members of his team scale the wall by giving them a boost. When May was over the edge, Loki took a final glance around and jumped. He caught the edge and then Phil and May grabbed his wrists, bracing him so that he could kick up higher and scramble over.

Training dropped him into a low hunch that minimized his profile, just like everyone else but Steve. He mirrored them a second later, quick to absorb their knowledge. The roof held one central entrance built into a covered stairwell. The guards on the corners continued their watch, blind thanks to Loki.

Natasha slid one way and May the other, soon swallowed by darkness. Steve looked at the other two men but Phil signaled that they should wait. Loki watched the guard in the direction that Natasha had gone and was able to see her rise behind him. The takedown itself was fast and lethal: a knife across the throat. Natasha made sure he was dead before rejoining them and May showed up shortly after her.

The door wasn’t even locked, which concerned Loki. He summoned an illusion that left the door unaltered and nodded at Natasha to proceed. She slipped inside and all was silent for a second. Four thumps filled the air, all of the something-hitting-flesh variety. Loki peeked in to see Natasha straightening up over two prone guards. It took thirty seconds to zip tie them; despite the guards’s deaths on the roof, they weren’t here to kill indiscriminately. By the time these guards were found, they should be downstairs and securing Bucky.

The stairs led them to another floor but Natasha bypassed the door to keep going down. They’d all agreed that the chair was probably in the lowest level, where it wouldn’t be seen by Garang’s visitors or family. Another landing put them back on the ground but on the level below, they could see guards. Unlike the ones above, they wore HYDRA uniforms, not the dark green that Garang put on his men.

Loki counted ten and signaled for everyone to stay put. Slipped past Natasha, he split the illusion, guarding his team from the rear and hiding himself from the men he approached. It actually strained him to create that kind of sustained focus over two different large areas and his vision swam for a second. Thankfully, another step put him where he needed to be.

A sharp whine filled the air and the men all grabbed at their comms. Momentarily distracted trying to get the painful buds out of their ears, Loki had the advantage. He didn’t really need it but he did need their comms down for a moment.

Using his rifle as a club, he hit the man on his right and then the one to his left. Both went down immediately and he slammed the butt in another’s face before whipping the muzzle across the other’s throat.

Four down in four seconds.

“I am out of practice,” he muttered as he ducked a horrible punch and used the attacker’s momentum to drive him violently into a sixth. He could hear the others coming and he dropped all illusions so that he could make two more: one hiding him as he went to the left while another of him went to the right. The remaining four soldiers followed the illusion and put their back to him.

_Too easy_. A one-two hit to the back of two separate skulls left the numbers two to one. The remaining fighters turned, panicking a bit now. One of them actually hit him, which mostly annoyed him but left that guy with a broken hand. Steve jumped in and punched him, taking him out, while the last went down after getting stunned by Natasha’s Widow’s Bite.

“That was impressive.” May sounded less impressed and more concerned.

Loki couldn’t help the wicked smile he shot her direction; he loved to needle those who deserved it. “Thank you.” He stepped behind Natasha as she opened the door. The time for secrecy was falling behind them and he didn’t bother with an illusion as she entered the hallway and looked left and right.

“Which way?” she asked softly.

“Right,” Steve whispered.

“Left.” Loki stepped that direction; they weren’t suggesting directions as much as splitting the group to maximize the search.

“Left,” May called, leaving Phil and Natasha with the rough choice of leaving their lover with a woman who didn’t like him, or leaving Steve alone.

“Right,” Phil called, annoyed. Loki felt uneasy that Phil wasn’t going with him. Steve would watch out for him but it wasn’t the same.

“Left,” Natasha finished, giving Phil a hint of a smile.

May looked like she wanted to argue but her professionalism prohibited anything that crass so she slipped into position behind Loki as Natasha started left. They’d checked most of the rooms this way when Phil’s voice said in their comms, “Right it was. We need backup.”

“Gotcha.” Natasha looked at Loki. “Go. We’ll catch up.”

He hesitated for a moment, only a second at the thought that she was alone with someone he did not trust. He did trust Natasha and flashed her a hand sign that didn’t come from the SHIELD or HYDRA handbook.

As he turned and dashed down the hall to join Phil and Steve, he heard May say, “You taught him to say ‘I love you’ in American Sign Language?”

“Yeah, it’s his safe gesture when he’s gagged.”

Loki choked back a laugh and resisted looking over his shoulder to see May’s face. While amusing, Natasha’s statement had been false. He’d not been gagged by either of his lovers yet. The thought bore some consideration.

He shook off those thoughts and concentrated on the fight ahead.

 

*  *  *

 

Phil checked each door before slipping past it, aware of Steve right behind him. They’d only gone halfway before his quick peek into the room spotted a technician talking with a soldier. The soldier was named Charles Guerra; he’d been in SHIELD. Phil resisted the urge to shoot him immediately. Another look verified that the room behind this one held the Chair. He could see someone in it; not too far away, he heard a sound like a mad scientist’s machine.

Phil pressed himself to the wall so that he whisper into the comm, “Right it was. We need backup.”

Tasha’s voice replied, “Gotcha.”

“Ready?” he asked Steve but the super soldier had waited long enough. He launched himself through the door, his shield flying out to bounce off Guerra’s head. Phil was right behind him, just in time to see the other four men in this room reacting to Captain America. The tech was no danger; the woman had thrown herself to the floor and huddled there, eyes wide and scared.

Steve had engaged the four men, stepping into the mass of them without hesitation or fear. Phil took a step to join him but he saw a motion in the next room. Someone was in there, and that’s where Barnes - the hostage - probably was.

Phil hurried through the door and froze. John Garrett stood next to the Chair, gun in hand. The muzzle was pressed against Barnes’s chest in clear intent. The buzzing sound had come from the Chair; Barnes lay limply in it, his eyes staring at nothing, a bite guard in his mouth.

Phil popped open the mic channel, letting the team know what was going on. “Give it up, Garrett.” Phil circled to the right so that Steve wouldn’t have to dodge around him.

“Don’t think so.” Garrett smiled that hateful, arrogant smile. “In fact, I have the one thing in the world that’ll let me walk out of here.” The hollow thump that Steve’s shield made when it bounced off a person came from the next room. “His BFF.”

“Captain America isn’t letting you leave with him.” Phil kept the gun on him, wondering if he could shoot Garrett before he killed Barnes. Loki probably could have but he wasn’t here, yet.

“Actually, it’s not just him I’ve leaving with. I want Rogers to come with!” Garrett’s smile widened. “He wants his buddy back and I’m all for that.”

Phil scoffed. “You’re out of your mind if you think you can hold Captain America.”

“You’re the one out of your mind, Phil.” Garrett’s voice was a maniacal as his smile. “Have the dreams started yet?”

“Crazy babble does not help your case.” Phil tried to let the words wash over him.

“Phil. You and I, we’re brothers. We are cosmic beams of light and soon we’re going to rule this place.” Garrett stared at him as if trying to will him into being on his side. “You’ll understand, when the dreams start. Then you’ll find me and we’ll talk.”

“You’re not taking Bucky.” Steve stood in the doorway. “But I’ll go with you.”

“No! No way!” Phil felt a spike of panic; this was exactly the kind of noble thing Steve Rogers would do.

“I agree.” Loki slipping in past Steve, lowering his rifle to train it on Garrett.

“Logan!” Garrett waved at him. “Hey, how’s SHIELD?”

“They don’t try to kill me or rewrite me, so better than you.” Loki stared at him. “Let Barnes go.”

“Uhh, no.” Garrett laughed, looking a little sheepish. “See, I’m in a bit of a bind, here, and so I need a hostage. Fortunately, I have a volunteer.”

“You know that we won’t let that happen,” Phil said, trying to think of the best way to handle the situation.

“Phil, it’s okay, if its for Bucky.” Steve stepped forward, just as the building shook with the sound of Stark’s missiles. The combat team was coming. Phil saw the shift in Garrett’s eyes, the one that said he knew he wasn’t leaving this place alive and free. He saw Garrett choose _free_ but not without requiring a price.

The gun was loud in the small room; Steve screamed a denial. May and Tasha rushed in and there was more gunfire; Phil found himself pulling his own trigger. When the smoke cleared, it wasn’t the former Winter Soldier who was bleeding, it was Garrett. He leaned against the wall heavily. His chest was hamburger from all the shots fired at him but he looked at Loki, his eyes betrayed. “Logan?” he asked, as if he didn’t really expect the jotun to kill him.

Loki stepped around the Chair while Steve began to try to get Bucky out. “My name is Loki.”

Phil went around the other side, covering the dying Garrett as he slid to the floor. “Phil,” Garrett rasped, “can you believe this guy? Fails to take over the world and then makes sure someone else gets it.” He coughed raggedly as Phil kicked his pistol away from him. No one was in any hurry to administer aid to this man. “Phil. Phil. Tell Dad hi when he comes. I’m sure you’ll piss him off . . .” Garrett stared into the distance and then whispered, “I wanted to be there for you, Phil, when you realized the truth. I wanted . . .” Again his voice trailed off but this time there were no more whispers.

After a moment, Phil leaned forward and touched Garrett’s neck. “He’s dead.”

“Room secure,” Loki reported over the comms to the strike team.

“Steve.” Natasha touched his arm. “The technician in the next room should be able to help.”

“Right.” Steve went to get her and the rest of the covert team settled in to wait for their friends to clear the premises.

 

*  *  *

 

“Am I so far off base?” Tony walked into his quarters in the tower, pieces of suit flying off of him. Pepper glanced up at him, took in his state of mind, and dropped her eyes to her work again. Tony ignored her hint, staring hard at the one person who could make sense of this shit. “I mean, even _Steve_ seems to like him!” Tony knew he was understating things; the look on Steve’s face when he shook Loki’s hand after Bucky was out of the Chair was pure gratitude. Sam had been the same, all smiles and pats on the back, like Loki was some _fucking hero_.

“Of course Steve likes him,” Pepper said without looking up from her tablet. “He helped him rescue Bucky. I think Hitler would get a kudo from Steve after doing that.”

“That’s just it! He’s Hitler, and I’m the only one that seems to remember!” Tony marched around the room in circles - okay, he was pacing. He could admit that.

“You’re not the only one who remembers.” Pepper flicked her finger to another screen. “You’re just the only one who doesn’t think he can change.”

Tony nearly pulled out hair. Not from his head of course - he wouldn’t fuck up this $500 haircut. It was perfection. He had staff who would let him pull out hair if he really needed to do it. “He can’t! This is Loki! He’s just tricking them all!”

“Probably.” Pepper finally looked up at him. “But that’s not the problem here.”

Tony tilted his head as he tried to get her meaning. “It’s not?”

“It’s that they’re not listening to you.” Her expression wasn’t mean or judgmental.

“Yes, exactly!” Tony pointed at her. “See, you agree with me! They should be!”

“No, I mean, the problem isn’t Loki.” Pepper rose and put her hands on his chest, smiling at him as only she could. “The problem is that your ego won’t consider the possibility that you’re wrong.”

“But . . .” Tony paused to pick his next words with care. “I’m not wrong.”

“Which is a problem.” Pepper sighed and said, “Tony, how often do people ignore perfectly good advice to do what they want anyway?”

“All the time.”

“Right. No one’s going to change their minds about Loki because you tell them they should.” Pepper smoothed his shirt, her hands coming to rest on his belt. “You’re going to have to wait for him to prove you right.”

“He’s going to hurt them.” Tony felt his chest constrict. “I have to stop him.”

“No, you don’t.” Pepper looked sad. “Tony, all you can do is be here for them when he does.”

Helplessness flooded him and the billionaire bowed his head. Pepper was the only person who could ever see him like this: defeated. “I don’t know how.”

“Well, first, you have to open your mind to the possibility that he’s sincere.” The CEO of Stark Industries lifted her boyfriend’s head so she could met his gaze.

Her words put some spirit back into the man. “Actually, no, I’m sure I _don’t_.”

Pepper snorted softly. “Yes, because the possibility will allow you to look them in the eyes and tell them you don’t agree with them but you love them anyway.”

Tony winced. “ _Love_ might be a bit much. I’m pretty sure I only liked Romanov, even before this all started. And Steve- Man, Steve is hard to take on a good day-”

Pepper laughed and pressed her hand over his mouth. It was juvenile but she’d long ago learned it was the only way to shut him up sometimes. “Whatever words you use, just tell them. Tell them that you care so that they’ll keep you around so when he drops them-” She moved her hand to mimic catching something. “You’ll be there. Sometimes, you can’t save people from themselves, only from the fall off the cliff.”

Tony sighed. She was right. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow. Thor wants to talk to me about moving Loki out of the Tower anyway. I can start working on keeping my enemy close tomorrow.”

 

*  *  *

 

Bucky was resting in Stark’s clinic under Bruce’s care. He was in a vegetable state following his release from the HYRDA device. No one was sure how much of his personality would survive being in the Chair, even for a partial session.

Garang’s compound had been cleared out. May had moved the warlord’s family to a secure SHIELD location until they could figure out what to do with the innocents. They first had to figure out which of his adult relatives were innocent but the kids would likely all end up relocated to boarding schools with new identities.

Hawkeye, Ricochet and Dethlok slipped away in the confusion.

The Chair had been destroyed by a really pissed off Steve, aided by Loki. The two men had torn the device apart with their bare hands.

There was much speculation about what Garrett had been talking about. Phil had set his team to going through any and all records they’d found. So far, it seemed as though Garrett had been babbling nonsense as he slipped away.

Grant was incarcerated in a SHIELD facility, where he refused to give any more aid to SHIELD.

Natasha, Phil and Loki went back to their suite in the Tower, curled up in bed together, and celebrated victory as only lovers will.

That night, Phil started to dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the first part of the story. It was going to be the end, but one of my goals was the redemption of Loki. That hasn't really happened yet so I'm continuing on. I'm still writing the second and I'll keep posting as long as I have material. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I'd love to get some feedback on the story thus far!


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catching up with everyone after some downtime.

Loki sighed and smiled as he looked up into the sun, twirling his cane in his hands. Two joggers passed him, taking advantage of the green spaces of Central Park. He relished the freedom of being outside without a chaperone. Though Stark had left the tracker on, he’d allowed Loki to leave the tower the morning after they’d rescued the one-armed soldier. In the days since, he had gone out daily. The summer sun beat down on Loki’s disguised face, a necessity after his ill-conceived invasion of New York. He didn’t look much like that man anymore but he’d prefer to be left alone.

His only warning was a change in air pressure and a sense that someone was now watching him. Loki held his smile as he turned, nodding at the woman standing behind him. She held her head high, her silvered hair piled in an elaborate partial bun with half left spilling down her back. Her pale orange dress was the Vanir style, so much like his mother’s chosen garb that Loki’s chest hurt. It didn’t help that this was a relative of the former queens, a distant cousin. The fear on her face washed away any resemblance to Frigga she might have possessed.

“Loki.” She made no attempt to use his adopted surname or mention his name place.

“Cousin Almveig.” Loki set his cane point down on the ground sharply, unable to resist making her start. “Thank you for coming.”

“I am here because Thor asked me.” Almveig’s statement let Loki know two things: she wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Thor, and she wouldn’t expect Loki to repay her for today’s help. There were many who feared any tie with someone as powerful as Loki, even if that tie was a future favor.

Loki had no hopes to earn the goodwill of the greater inhabitants of the Nine Realms but things  like this still stung. “Understood. Did he tell you what I need?”

“Yes.” She relaxed fractionally. “You need to know about Jotun bonding.”

Loki nodded. “Would you like to take a seat?” He gestured to a bench, then to the street vendor nearby. “Something to drink? Soda is terribly sweet but carbonation is something worth experiencing.”

Surprise flickered over Almveig’s face at his polite words. “Yes, please.” While she took a seat, Loki purchased two sodas and brought them to her. He knew the scholar well enough to know that she loved new experiences. Hopefully, this would put her at ease. When he sat on the same bench - but not too close, of course - she had a thoughtful look on her face. “No one told you what to expect, did they?”

He handed her a cup, watching as her quick mind catalogued the styrofoam container, the lid, and the straw. “Never.” His smile turned bitter. “I was told I was Asgardian as Thor.” He took a small sip of his soda just to show her how to use the straw. The more relaxed she was, the more she would share.

“I see.” Almveig took a sip, her brown eyes widening at the taste and feel of the drink. She coughed slightly and recovered, blinking. “From the onset of puberty, jotun are capable of bonding. This term has a wider use outside their world, but within their culture, it is only applied in the following sense. A jotun will develop strong, deep feelings for another over a period of time. If the bonding process is not interrupted, then a bond will form.”

Loki frowned. “The Asgard call it love. Why don’t the jotun?”

The scholar smiled thinly. “It’s not love, in that it’s deeper than that. The Asgard form emotional bonds but that is all they are. Jotun bonding has a mystical element to it. There are several elements in which it differs from love.

“First, there is the duration.” Almveig took another drink of soda as her tone had settled into a lecturing cadence. “Jotun bondings are permanent. There are stories in the jotun oral tradition where that ends in tragedy, when one jotun bonds but another doesn’t.”

“Or when one jotun bonds to a non-jotun?” Loki watched her reaction carefully.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Almveig shrugged off the idea. “Jotun bondings can be one-way so its possible. What I find most interesting about them is that while the Asgard and Vanir are rigid in their sexual preferences, jotun are very flexible. Their bondings occur across gender lines so regularly that there is no cultural expectations that any given jotun will end up with a specific gender. Jotun can have more than one bonding, and can form new ones if they lose the one or ones they are bonded with. They can acquire new bondings, even though bound, and their other bound have few issues with it. It is trusted that the jotun will bond to whom they will, and that is the end of it.”

Loki tilted his head. “You said it can be interrupted.”

“Yes. Until the bonding is complete it can be disrupted by the target’s actions, by the bonder’s change of heart, or anything that can cause issues in any relationship.” Almveig watched another set of joggers go by as she said, “It is as any other relationship. The fascinating part is how the jotun establishes the feelings and the mystical aspects.”

“You mentioned those.” Loki kept his voice neutral though anger bubbled in him. He’d thought that the damage done by Odin was over once he’d learned the truth but it had come back to hurt him again. What else did he not know about himself?

“Yes, bonded jotun can sense the object of the bond. I don’t mean that they can read minds but they do have an instinctive understandings of their bond’s needs. That does mean that they know when they die but it wouldn’t help them find one another if lost.” Almveig took another drink and finished, “You’ll know when it happens. You’ll feel something for another person that you’ve never felt before, something deep, intense, and very comforting. The jotun I’ve talked to about this and the lore I’ve heard made it very clear that the bonding experience is unique. I’d think it would be frightening but the jotun find it lovely, or so they say. A connection to another being that we can’t imagine.” She smiled fondly. “Makes me wish I could be jotun, to experience it.”

It was the smile and the wistful sentiment. The old Loki would have never said anything personal to her but the new him wasn’t threatened by the idea. This woman wasn’t interested in betraying his trust, only in her pursuit of knowledge. “It is something beautiful.”

“You are bonded-” She stopped, smiling wryly. “Of course. That’s why you needed to know this. May I ask who you are bound to? How did you meet another jotun-” Her words cut off again, her lips parting in quiet shock.

“They are mortal.” Loki couldn’t stop smiling and he wondered if he wanted to talk about them.

Almveig’s expression shifted to sorrowful, though she tried to smile. “Congratulations, Loki.”

His chest tightened and he quickly rose. She was prejudiced against mortals, like so many Asgardians and Vanir. “You don’t mean that. Thank you for the information.”

She reached for his hand and stopped herself. “Loki, please. It’s not like that. If they are mortal, they will die sooner rather than later. And you will love them until the day you die, just as much as you love them now. That is a long time to be bound to someone who is gone.”

The true concern in her voice turned him back to her. The jotun glanced down at her. “I had-” He cleared his throat. “It was something that had occurred to me.”

“And I have to be honest.” Almveig’s expression wavered between sad and pitying. “I have no idea what a jotun bonding does to a non-jotun. I hope - I suspect - nothing. I just can’t tell you what may happen because I’m not sure this has happened before. I can’t guide you through this, Loki. I have no advice to offer.”

*  *  *

“C’mon, Ward. The more information you cough up, the better it’ll go for you.” Agent Culver sat casually in his chair, tapping his pen against the desk to a song only he could hear. “The less you give us, the less we can help you.”

“You said this yesterday. And the day before, and the day before that.” Grant Ward sighed heavily as he stared at  his interrogator. “My answer is the same. I don’t know any more than I’ve already told you.”

“So you give us some story about alien invasions?” Culver changed the rhythm of his tapping abruptly, turning it into a rapid staccato of sound. “I think you can do better.”

Ward dropped his head on the table wearily, and Phil shut off the video feed. He glanced at his team. “That’s all we’ve gotten from him in all the interrogations. Now that the HYDRA cell in Amherst has been cleaned up, I want to focus on this.” He let his eyes linger on Skye for a moment. She was cool and calm; it had been months since Grant had betrayed them.

Sometimes, it didn’t feel that long.

“So we are we treating this as credible intel?” Triplett asked, hands on his hips.

“We are treating this as intel that matched some weird things Garrett was saying as he died.” Phil glanced around the room and noted, “He referenced Loki specifically, saying he ‘failed to do it himself and then gave it to someone else’. I think that references the Chitauri invasion.”

“Yes, the invasion of New York.” Melinda’s tone was icy.

Phil ignored the jab; Tony’s were better anyway. “However, I don’t know that’s what Garrett was planning. He blamed Loki twice, first in the past and then in the present or future.”

“So what’s the plan?” Trip asked.

“We lean on what remains of our contacts hard. Try to find out what Garrett was planning.” Phil crossed his arms. “I hope we’ll find out what he was babbling. If he’s not, let’s hope that whatever he had planned was still in the planning stages.”

“Is this our priority?” Fitz watched him with distant eyes. He hadn’t recovered from what Grant had done to him - not really. His brilliance was still there but it lay under a layer of sorrow and pain.

“Unless something more immediate arises.” Phil hesitated, unsure if this was a good move. “Call SWORD. We’ll need their help.” Melinda made a soft noise that might have been disgust. “I know. But this is their area, so they should have more information than we do.”

*  *  *

Steve radiated nervous energy like an electrical field. Natasha reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. He smiled at her but it didn’t help settle him at all.

On the other side of the glass, the man known as Bucky Barnes stared blankly at the objects on the table in front of him. The therapist in the room smiled encouragingly but he showed no reaction to the place setting, either the silverware and plates.

“It’s like he doesn’t know how to be a person anymore.” Steve closed his eyes. “It’s my fault. I pushed the technician to get him out of there too fast.”

“We all wanted him out before the program finished wiping and reprogramming him.” Natasha kept her voice soothing. She knew how to talk to targets and keep them calm.

Thankfully, it worked to help friends as well. Steve’s shoulders relaxed fractionally. “I worry whether I made the right call.”

“That way lies madness, Steve.” Natasha watched as Barnes picked up a fork. After a second, his fingers shifted it so that he held it right. “I think he’ll be okay. In time.”

“In time.” Steve nodded. “Loki’s been helping him, I think. They talk about it, when Bucky needs it.”

Natasha smiled, as often happened when she thought of her jotun lover. “I’m glad. Maybe people will stop assuming he’s playing some con.”

Steve frowned and Natasha stiffened. She knew that look: he was about to say something he didn’t think she’d like. “Natasha, I’m grateful for all that Loki’s done. He was the one who figured out that HYDRA had him, he got Ward to talk - I know, without question, that if he hadn’t helped, they’d still have Bucky. But Natasha, no one’s going to stop expecting Loki to be a bad guy.”

The assassin dropped her hand from his shoulder, her jaw tightening. “What is it going to take?” The low growl in her voice filled the air. “People are never going to see he’s changed-”

“Natasha, he hasn’t changed.” Steve cut her off as sharply as she’d cut off his next sentence. “Wait, just listen.” His shoulders rose and fell in that little shrug he gave when he was about to try something he wasn’t sure would work. “He’s helped me and I am grateful for all he’s done. But when he started to help, he flat out told me that it was because this had happened to him. He’s polite when people are polite to him, mostly but there are those moments of cruelty in him still. He’ll make someone jump or start just because he finds it funny. You and Phil are the only people he cares about and that scares me. I don’t know what he’ll do if something happens to the two of you.”

“He has changed. I can see that.” Natasha was getting really sick of everyone telling her how horrible her boyfriend was.

“Has he said he’s sorry?” Steve phrased the question softly and without judgment.

Natasha stopped. “For?”

“Everything. The attack on New York. Phil.” Steve managed a smile. “I can forgive a man for anything if he’s sincerely trying to change. I ignored everything I’ve learned about you because your regret for what you’d done was clear to anyone who heard you talking.” He shook his head. “I’ve never heard anything like that from Loki.”

He was wrong but Natasha knew she couldn’t say anything to convince him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to restart updates on Friday to take the place of the second Age of Miracles update. Rather than make you wait for the next Friday, I'm doing this one a day late.
> 
> The reason for my resumption is two-fold. Malachite showed me where I could see the number of subscriptions and I realized I had forty people who wanted to know the moment I updated this story. Then Lady Grae posted her comments and nothing stirs me to write better than good feedback. So thanks so much to my supporters - you're all awesome.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catching up with others.

Clint sat with his heels on the co-pilot’s chair, his eyes staring out the windshield of the Bus. The bird was on autopilot, following a course that he’d set this morning. The door opened and Dana Roth stood there, smiling a little. The cute brunette was painfully shy, particularly for a HYDRA agent, but every organization needed talented people who kept the day to day operations going. “Sir? I have Hollister ready to take over flying so that you can have that meeting?”

Dana was his new assistant. Taking over HYDRA had been a necessary but horrible move. Not horrible because he’d had to kill a couple of people but horrible because that left him in charge. Clint wasn’t the kind of guy who liked being the leader of a group of people, much less an entire spy agency. He wasn’t very good at paperwork or details like that, so he’d recruited Dana from Administration to help. It had taken almost a week for her to look him in the eyes.

“Thank you, Dana.” He smiled as he rose, picking up the folder from the co-pilot’s seat. “You scanned this all in yesterday?” The relief pilot slipped in past him, taking over.

“Yes, sir.” Her smile faded and her big brown eyes widened a little more as she walked beside him. “Sir?”

“I’ve told you to call me Clint. Or Hawkeye.” He didn’t want to admit it but he had a soft spot for her already. She was a genuinely sweet person and one of HYDRA’s true believers.

“Um, Hawkeye - Is all this real?” Her fingers shook as she pointed at the folder.

“Yeah.” He managed a grim smile for her. “That’s what this meeting is about. Mind sitting in with me and, uh, taking notes?”

Dana laughed. “Yes, I’d be glad to. You know, you don’t have to be so uncomfortable with asking.”

“I’m just not used to having to ask.” He opened the door for her and followed her into the room.

Ricochet was already sitting at the conference table, along with Wu “Scarface” Chen and Lekan “Omaraiye” Ogunleye. Scarface stared hard at Dana, his black eyes glittering at her through a mask of criss-crossing scars. Omaraiye watched quietly, his ebony skin and Nigerian features marking him as an African native.

“Dana, are we connected?” Clint dropped into his seat and rubbed his closed bow under the table. Omaraiye was bizarre but an okay guy. Scarface was a scumbag, and Ricochet had standing orders to never be alone in a room with him. Meanwhile, Ricochet herself was a sadist. Clint refused to show weakness to any of them.

“Yes, Hawkeye.” She sat down at a laptop and the screens on the wall lit up with eight more faces.

Clint took a moment to study each of them. These were the people who had agreed to follow him. He didn’t trust one of them but he did need them. “Has everyone settled their internal issues in their cells?” He got a round of nods. “Then you can finally know why I’ve worked so hard to reintegrate HYDRA into a strong force. We’re done hiding from SHIELD and the rest of the world. We don’t have that luxury anymore. Dana, please send those packets.”

His assistant nodded and clicked a few buttons, then rose to pass out photocopies to the three in physical attendance. “My assistant just sent you emails containing all the information I found about Garrett’s mission for HYDRA. I’ll give you five minutes to read.” His eye twitched as Scarface’s fingers brushed over Dana’s wrist when she passed him the papers. She didn’t look happy as she took her seat next to Hawkeye.

Clint made a mental note to keep her away from Scarface. She was messing around on her phone and he leaned over to see her googling pictures of kittens. She saw his look and flushed brightly. Seconds later, a text popped up on his phone from her: _It keeps me calm. Don’t judge! O.o_

He couldn’t stop the smile that twitched his lips. Swiftly he sent back: _Cats are the devil. That’s why they have slitted eyes and pointed ears._

Her soft gasp of indignation forced him to smother another smile. Her return shot was: _Is THIS the devil?_ The attached image of a sleeping gray tabby kitten was pretty cute.

_Yes, it is just luring you into complacency._ Even as he sent back the text, Clint wondered what the hell he was doing. This was not how HYDRA agents behaved.

This was a lot closer to how things had been with Natasha. That was why he wasted the entire five minutes arguing about cats with his assistant but felt better than he had in a long time.

“Time’s up, hope you all are ready.” Clint called the meeting back to order when he realized that five minutes had passed - a little more, thanks to Dana’s distraction. “You see why I moved to consolidate HYDRA."

“Do we know who Garrett was in contact with?” Omaraiye asked with a French-Nigerian accent, his voice hard.

“No, and I don’t know how he was communicating with them either.” Clint kept the frustration out of his voice. “To figure that out, I’ve forged an alliance with SWORD.”

“What!” Elizabeth “Scimitar” Flynn’s crisp British accent, distorted only slightly by the connection, cut off Clint’s next statement.

“I know, I know. But I’ve already talked with Allison Barnes and she is on-board with us.” Clint smirked, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with her at arrow-point. “Once I convinced her of the reality of the situation, she agreed that our differences should be set aside.

“Garrett wanted the world to see HYDRA as a savior. He thought that was the way to win them over, to trick them into giving us their hearts and souls. Give us free rein to remake the world.” Clint chuckled drily. “It wasn’t a bad plan but without him, it falls apart.”

“Which we can thank Loki for,” Scarface snarled.

“No, I lay that back at Garrett. He created the monster we’re dealing with now - an Asgardian with all his magic and a knowledge of our organization and modern tools.” Clint glared around the table, both the physical and virtual one. “Loki’s our number two problem, though, also thanks to Garrett.”

He looked at them all. “If any of you are going to to break from HYDRA over this, tell me now. If you leave and take your cells with you this instant, I’ll let you walk. If you stay, you’re all in to the end.”

They understood the danger. Not one of them logged out or left the room. Clint smiled grimly. “Then we have work to do.”

*  *  *

Phil walked into the tower suite and straight to the couch. Dropping his briefcase on the floor, he plopped onto the cushions next to Loki. His boyfriend was buried in a book but he gladly lifted his arm and tucked Phil under it. They both shifted until they were comfortable, and Loki leaned over and kissed him lightly. Placing the book on his lap, his long fingers holding it open, he asked, “Bad day, _sváss_?”

Phil’s lips curled at the endearment Loki had started to use for both of them. “What does that mean?” he asked.

Loki’s green eyes gleamed playfully, as they always did when he had this conversation. “I’ll tell you, someday.”

“Or I’ll find out.” The SHIELD agent reached up and brushed a finger over Loki’s cheek, leaving a trail of sensation. “I may not be the brains that you and Tasha are but I can still find information.”

“I know.” Loki shifted so that one of his legs rested across Phil’s. “I admit to being curious about whether you’ll find it or torture it out of me between the sheets.”

Phil laughed. “That does hold a certain appeal. Speaking of appeal, is it Tasha’s night to cook?”

“Yes, which means she’ll bring home takeout.” Loki’s eyes drifted closed in satisfaction as Phil began to stroke his leg, his hands warm through Loki’s pants.

Phil chuckled, the pads of his fingers tracing the seams of the clothing. “I’m guessing it’ll be Italian, given her text about meatballs earlier.”

“Hmm, perhaps she wasn’t talking about food.” Loki set aside his book and pressed his free hand to Phil’s crotch, enjoying his partner’s hum of pleasure. “She might have been speaking about something else.”

“No, I was talking about food.” Natasha stood in the doorway, looking at her two boyfriends with a bemused smile. Despite having heavy bags hanging from her hands, she’d gotten the door open in complete silence. “Do you guys want to eat?”

Loki glanced at Phil and knew he was hungry. He just understood, without needing to ask, that right now, as much as his boyfriend may have desired sex, he was in _need_ of food. It made Loki’s own choice easy. “Eat. I had an early lunch and I hunger.”

Natasha unpacked the food while Loki got out plates and Phil opened a bottle of wine. They served themselves on their kitchen counter before sitting down at the table. At first they focused on small talk but finally the conversation drifted to their respective days. Natasha asked him, “Loki, how did your meeting with the Vanir go?”

“So-so,” he sighed, toying with a piece of chicken. “She gave me much information but I’m not sure how much will be useful. I want to talk to you both about it but I need to assimilate it first, so not today. How is Barnes?”

_Irritation_. Loki narrowed his eyes thoughtfully as he realized that Natasha was upset by his question. He couldn’t fix the problem until he knew what was wrong so he didn’t retract it, giving her time to pick her words. “He’s getting better. It’s slow.”

So it wasn’t Barnes directly. Loki pondered pressing her but she was a master at not talking about something she didn’t want to speak about, and Natasha asked Phil, “How goes getting everyone working together?”

Phil shrugged as he finished chewing his fettuccine. “They’re coming together,” he said once his mouth was clear. “I have my team on board and we can focus on what Garrett was planning. Unfortunately, we don’t have a battle plan, or even anything beyond a sketchy plan uttered by a dying man and the confirmation of a traitor.” Phil looked determined, not beaten, even as he finished, “We just have to figure out what he was doing.”

“You will.” Loki smiled at him. “Then we’ll help you stop it.”

“I didn’t tell them that I have another confirmation of what Garrett said.” Phil set down his fork and swallowed tightly.

Loki set down his own fork, worry stealing his desire to eat. “You’re still having the dreams?” Phil nodded. “Not even the meditation is helping?”

“When I’m in the dream, I don’t have any desire to alter it or practice lucid dreaming.” Phil shook his head. “I’m not completely me in the dream. I can’t put words to it.”

They were all silent for a moment. “We’ll figure this out, too.” Loki took his hand. “I will let nothing harm you, Phil.” Phil’s fingers tangled with his, tightening after a beat. Loki pushed away his plate and moved to kneel in front of him. His lover’s smile made the jotun’s heart race, and he pulled Phil’s hand to his mouth. The gentle kiss on his knuckles caught Phil’s breath.

Strong, cool hands gripped Loki’s shoulder; Natasha had moved silently to his back. Anyone else would have set off a violent reaction from him but he remained relaxed as she leaned against him. Her hands slid down his chest, rubbing and stroking. Her questing fingers caught handfuls of fabric and pulled Loki’s shirt up so she could touch his skin.

The jotun’s eyes rolled back a little but he had to focus on Phil. He reached out and caught his lover by the tie, drawing him in for a kiss. He felt Natasha shift against his back, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder. Tingles raced from his lips down his body; from the soft sounds Phil was making, he was having the same reaction.

“Bedroom.” Natasha’s command rang with need and authority, and Loki’s cock stirred with eagerness. From her tone, he doubted she’d be the one tied up tonight and he couldn’t wait to see whether it would be himself or Phil. As they rose and moved toward the room, Loki once again knew that he’d never let anyone hurt them, or part him from his chosen ones. _Nothing will ever happen to them. I’ll protect them for the rest of their lives._

He shouldn’t make vows he couldn’t keep.

 

 


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cosmic ray of light.

He was a cosmic ray of light. The Earth was below him and space above him. Humans were dots of light all over the place, bright but smaller than him - they were human while he was more. Around the globe, he could see other brilliant towers reaching toward the stars: his brothers and sisters. He knew that if he reached for them, he could know them. He would know their fears, their dreams, and their hopes. He’d know them inside and out.  Even if they didn’t know what they were, he’d know them better than they knew themselves.

They would know him just as well.

The thought sent ripples of distress through him. That his life could be laid bare was one thing. That they would know his lovers just as deeply scared him. Fierce protectiveness for them rose in his heart but that surge attracted attention. Desperate, he sought something else to turn his thoughts to and focus on.

In space, far away, he felt a flare of power. At the heart of it was a long-lost brother, who could be felt only because of this new potency. He wasn’t the only of his siblings who noticed, or who reached for that lost light. He was the only one who could stretch that far. While they were more than human, he was more than they.

A man with glowing purple irises faced a man with a blue and black face. Companions of the brother stood with him, holding hands or touching shoulders, linked one to the other. Power radiated off of them like fire, and purple smoke rolled off of their skin and clothing. He heard the lost brother say, “You said it yourself, bitch. We’re the guardians of the galaxy.”

Power lashed out from the source in the man’s hand, picking up the blue and black man and holding him in the air. He watched as the man tore his enemy apart slowly, in pieces. The power was immense and he couldn’t help reaching for it.

He touched the lost brother with the purple eyes and knew him, his story, his needs and wants. It was more than that: the brother knew him, knew his lovers and knew his fears. He felt the lost brother’s companions turn to look at him but they didn’t feel him. They could see him only because the brother could.

The blue and black man burned to ashes and only then did the brother look over his shoulder at him. Purple eyes met blue, both sets narrowing slightly. The brother’s female companion moved, slamming something down over the source of the power.

The connection to earth snapped and Phil stood behind the lost brother, awake and shivering from the shock of the transition. The lost brother turned to stare at him, face cracked, bloody, and confused; the dream was over and he didn’t remember it.

His brows drew together in concern. “Who are you?” the lost brother asked. Only now Phil was the lost one.

*  *  *

Natasha jerked awake as something changed. She didn’t know immediately what had woken her but her instincts were warning her.

Her left side was getting cold. She twisted around to look and found Phil’s side of the bed empty. Dread redoubled as Loki sat up suddenly, his green eyes wide. “Something’s wrong,” he whispered, sending a chill down her spine. Her lover’s voice shook as he called, “Phil?”

Natasha waited tensely for an answer, for Phil’s voice to ring out from the kitchen or bathroom. Instead, there was a terrible silence. They both left the bed, their ears perked for the slightest hint of their lover. All of their rooms were empty, filled with silence.

“JARVIS, where is Phil Coulson?” Natasha felt herself falling into cold, impersonal spy mode. Loki looked absolutely frozen, locked in a mask of fear and hope.

“Phil Coulson is not in the Avenger’s Tower.”

Loki shuddered sharply and Natasha put a hand on his arm. “I can’t feel him,” Loki whispered. Her eyebrows rose at that statement but Natasha didn’t address it yet.

“JARVIS, when and how did he leave?” she asked, her nails digging into Loki’s bare arm.

The AI sounded perplexed. “Black Widow, he left the room and building simultaneously through unknown means two minutes forty-three seconds ago. I do not know how to describe his means of exit aside from teleportation.”

“If Iron Man or Banner have done something-” Loki’s angry hiss broke off as Natasha interrupted.

“Then they’ll fix it.” She frowned as he refused to met her eyes, his muscles taut under her hand. “They will fix it.”

He finally looked at her and Natasha’s stomach twisted at the hatred and hurt in his eyes. “They don’t like me. They want to hurt me.”

“That’s a bit arrogant of you to assume that Tony or Bruce would kidnap one of their friends just to hurt you.” She reached out and took his hands, wincing slightly as his fingers clenched tightly around hers. He relinquished his grip almost immediately but the anger in his gaze remained.

“Do you deny they are not capable?” Loki’s green eyes burned with pain and rage, and Natasha remembered Steve’s words with a shiver of discomfort.

“Not mentally. Not emotionally. Certainly not in the way you mean.” Natasha didn’t look away from him for a second, She held the eye contact until Loki’s shoulder sagged.

“I don’t trust them,” he snarled, his eyes darting away from hers.

The Avenger reached out and cupped his cheek, returning his gaze to hers. “I’m not asking you to.” Steve’s words burned as she told him, “I’m asking you to trust me.”

Her jotun lover exhaled, his body relaxing in surrender. He leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “I do.”

“Then get dressed.” Natasha smiled fiercely at him, her determination to find Phil burning bright. It sparked his own fire and her lover nodded sharply as he straightened. They would find their missing third.

“JARVIS, wake up Tony.” Even as she spoke, Natasha was pulling on her clothing, donning her black suit. When she turned to Loki, she stopped short. He wore his green and gold armor, complete with his horns curling up and over his head. His dark glower didn’t help the image. Her lover looked like the Invader of New York once more.

Even angry, he was considerate of her; his expression softened. “What is wrong?”

She gave herself a second to pick the right words. “You haven’t worn that since you were brainwashed.”

His beautiful green eyes hardened once more. “I have not felt comfortable in it but one of my triad is missing. Today, this feels right again. The God of Chaos is ready for war.”

Natasha took a deep breath, stifling the anxiety in her chest. “We don’t know who took him or even if it was an intentional attack.” She put a hand on Loki’s arm, hoping that Steve was right.

“Natasha, I swear to you - the only ones who need fear this armor are those who took Phil from us.” The fury grew in his green eyes again, and he turned away from her. His cape snapped behind him as he strode out the door, and Natasha had a bad, bad feeling about this.

*  *  *

“Who are you?” The woman’s -- _Gamora?_ \-- words were the same as Quill’s but a lot less curious and far more hostile.

Phil swallowed and hastily answered, “Phil Coulson.”

“I know Coul.” Drax tilted his head at Phil. “He owed me money. Since he is dea--”

“It’s a surname.” Phil struggled to regain his composure; the task was harder than he expected without his suit of authority. He would have taken jogging pants and an undershirt, at this point. Being in his boxers while fully aware that his potentially jealous lovers might misconstrue this into something lethal kept distracting him from his other thoughts. “My father’s name was Ronald Coulson.”

The massive alien’s expression twisted as his lip curled. “Your father is your brother?”

“Don’t take it literally, Drax.” The second he said the other being’s name, Phil knew he was in trouble. He shouldn’t know--

“Well, well, well.” The newcomer was a blue-skinned alien with a red crest; Peter’s memories told Phil it was Yondu. “Quite the lightshow.” Peter tensed and moved the Orb behind his back. Phil watched as he slid it into a pocket in the back of his jacket. Yondu sauntered forward, grinning. “But you got some business to attend to before all the nookie-nookie starts.”

Gamora whispered, “Peter, you can't. Peter.”

The young human straightened. “You gotta reconsider this, Yondu. I don't know who you're selling this to, but the only way the universe can survive is if you give it to the Nova Corps.”

“I may be as pretty as an angel,” Yondu snorted, “but I sure as hell ain't one. Hand it over, son.”

With a tight jaw, Peter pulled an Orb out of another pocket. As Yondu’s crew laughed, the human said, “Yondu. Do not open that Orb. You know that, right? You've seen what it does to people.”

The blue-skinned man hesitated thoughtfully, then gave a little nod. A moment later, he left with his crew, laughing again.

Once the Ravagers were gone, Peter pulled out the real Orb. Gamora looked up at him sadly. “He’s gonna kill you, Peter.”

“Oh, I know,” the human said wistfully. “But he was about the only family I had.”

“No.” She put her hand on his arm. “He wasn't.”

Phil edged away from the group. They were distracted and it was a good time to leave. He wasn’t sure where he going to go, but he knew he didn’t want to be here. Unfortunately, the movement caught their attention and the four remaining Guardians turned to glare at him. “Who are you again?” Gamora asked.

Phil sighed. “I’m from Earth, and the Orb pulled me here through my dreams.”

“Earth? My Earth?” Peter asked. When Phil nodded, he scoffed. “People from my Earth don’t travel in dreams.”

“I’m special.” Phil shrugged as if that wasn’t an understatement.

Behind them, people in uniforms jogged up behind them, along with a medical crew. “Quill?” one of them called.

“Dey! Buddy, I need a favor.” Peter jerked a thumb at Phil. “Arrest this guy, will you?”

*  *  *

They left him in a room for a several hours. It was cold and he was starting to get thirsty. Hunger had happened hours ago but he’d been trained to deal with deprivation. He wondered what they were doing outside this room, but he could guess: recovery for civilians, medical care for the survivors, and briefing of those in charge.

To pass the time, Phil closed his eyes and began to measure his breathing. It wasn’t quite mediation; he didn’t try to empty his mind, only regulate his breaths and think of something far more pleasant than here. Of course, his thoughts went right to Tasha and Loki: their secret smiles just for him, the warmth of her touch compared to the coolness of his, and how much happiness they brought him.

The door opened, pulling him out of his reverie. A woman with oddly styled blonde hair walked into the room, flanked by guards. “Mr. Coulson,” she said, her manner cautious. “I’m not sure I understand how you got involved in the battle. You’re from Mr. Quill’s home planet?”

“If he’s from Earth, then yes, the same place.” Phil reminded himself to not know too much.

“What was your family like?” she asked.

Phil frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“Please tell me of your mother, and I’ll explain the relevance. Was she human?” his interrogator asked.

“Very. Both of my parents were.” A second later he remembered that wasn’t entirely true. “My adopted parents were human. I don’t know about my biological parents.”

“I see.” The woman stared at him for a moment, studying him. “Your genome is very unusual. You’re a mixture of three races: human, Kree, and something very old.”

Phil swallowed, trying to absorb those words. “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?” he muttered. Distantly, he realized he was in shock.

She frowned. “Yes, the Kree are blue, but I’m not sure I follow the rest.”

“It’s nothing important.” He took a deep breath. “If you could just return me to Earth--”

“I wish I could, but I can’t.” The woman folded her hands. “The treaty we signed with the Kree Empire demands the return of all full- or part-blooded Kree when they come into our custody. So long as we turn over their people, they’ll continue to return ours. I’m afraid you are caught in a political mess, Mr. Coulson.”

That left Phil one avenue of escape. I can’t believe I’m about to play this card. “I’m the, uh, paramour of a very important person, one of the princes of Asgard.”

“Thor or Loki?” She was at least cognizant of intergalactic politics.

Phil swallowed tightly, reminding himself to not be ashamed of his feelings for the jotun. Still, a part of him cringed when he said, “Loki.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t as helpful as you think,” the woman said, her manner turning dismissive. “Prince Loki is not in favor with his father, and an exile holds little political power. If you’ll come willingly, the Kree are waiting to take you.”

“Do I have a choice?” he asked angrily as he stood.

“No.” At least she looked him in the eye and was honest.

“Can I at least have some pants?”

She smiled a little and nodded. “We’ll even give you a shirt.”

“Can you do one more thing?” he asked quickly. “Could you send a message to someone for me?”

“I’ll try,” she promised.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A message and further divisions.

“Let us be sure we understand one another.” Loki planted his hands on the table. The light glinted off his armor as he glared at all the Avengers. “Natasha says that none of you have taken Phil. Should I find otherwise, my wrath will fall on you all.”

“I wouldn’t hurt Phil just to get at you,” Stark snapped, looking irritated and tired. He’d been woken way too early by his own standards and dragged from bed with Pepper, all to deal with Loki.

“None of us would,” Steve said quickly. “Phil’s our friend.”

Natasha laid a hand on Loki’s arm and he sat down, his motions stiff. “Tony, what do we know?” she asked, turning to look at her teammate.

“All we know is that Phil teleported out of your bed at two-thirty-three.” Tony made a gesture and a map of the building appeared, filled with glowing dots. It zoomed into the triad’s bedroom, where three dots were so close together they seemed to be almost one. When the light representing Phil disappeared, on the screen, it seemed more like the circle shrank. Tony snuck a glance at Natasha and saw her features twitch. “JARVIS is studying the type of energy surge that occurred when he was taken. I’ll let you know the results as soon as we have it.”

“I will go to Heimdall and have him search Midgard for our friend,” Thor promised gravely.

“Thank you,” Natasha said with a smile.

“What can we do now?” Loki asked.

A whisper of sympathy filled Tony’s mind. The jotun, asshole or not, was hurting. If it’d been justice or getting what he deserve, it would have been pure entertainment. This was something else, and even Tony didn’t like it. “We look. We turn the planet over if that’s what it takes.” Loki looked at him, surprise clear on his features and Tony said, “He’s my friend. And if you were missing, I’d look for you, too. Because he’s my friend.”

“Let’s get going,” Steve said, standing. “We have a friend to find.”

*  *  *

The shirt and pants were both white; not Phil’s favorite color. They were loose and comfortable, and they covered his boxers, so he was pleased with them. They’d fed him, and let him use a restroom. He didn’t feel like he was a prisoner, except for the part he couldn’t leave. The woman had taken his message, so hopefully, rescue would be coming. If they hadn’t been turning him over to strange aliens, he wouldn’t have minded meeting them.

“You know, this is some kind of mistake,” he told him again as they came and got him.

The guard shrugged. “That’s what they all say.”

“No, I mean, I’m not Kree, at all.” Phil smiled. “I’m just a Terran.”

“The doctors are rarely wrong,” the other guard noted casually as they guided him toward a set of doors.

“This is going to cause an incident,” he warned, thinking of how Loki was going to react when he learned the truth.

“That’s way above our pay grade,” the first guard replied as they exited the building onto a tarmac. “We just do as we’re told.”

A spaceship waited for them - or rather for him. Phil swallowed as he was marched to the lowering gangplank, but he froze when he saw the alien waiting for them. It was tall and blue, and looked like the one he’d seen in that tank. T.A.H.I.T.I., he thought, his blood running cold as he realized it wasn’t a mistake. He had pieces of blue alien DNA floating through his system. _That has to be the reason for the dreams_ , he thought, wishing he’d known that to include in his message home.

_Then why was Garrett also having them?_ Phil didn’t know and it could be a lucky guess. Something in him doubted it though. There was also all the other beams of light he’d seen. They couldn’t all be from Project T.A.H.I.T.I. That was still an answered question, one whose answer lay in the “something old” description.

“Come on.” The second guard nudged him gently. “Keep moving.”

“This is a mistake,” Phil repeated, but he didn’t even believe it anymore. Oh, it was a mistake, but not one he or these aliens had made. Fury had made it when he’d brought Phil back from the dead.

He didn’t have a choice, so he allowed himself to be pushed aboard the ship. The blue-skinned alien hovered by his side until the ramp closed, then waved imperiously to guards standing nearby. They looked nearly human, aside from the odd weaponry. It wasn’t that unfamiliar, however; he’d seen them before, on that island where he’d fallen in love with Loki.

“My name is Phil Coulson. I need to get back to Earth,” he told the blue-skinned alien. The man ignored him completely and walked away. “Okay, then,” he muttered as one of the guards shoved his shoulder with his gun. “Where are you taking me?” he asked, falling into agent mode: collect information.

He got another shove in answer. “You can tell your bosses that I need to get back to Earth. Powerful people are going to come looking for me. It cause trouble for them. They should know that.”

Again, they ignored him, pushing him by the shoulder into a cell. He didn’t need to know anything about the Kree to understand that the room was meant to hold prisoners. “Great,” he muttered as he took in the small ledge for sleeping and a simple toilet. Without much enthusiasm or expectation of success, he hunted for an opening or anything he could use as a weapon. There was nothing, and he slumped onto the “bed”.

Phil allowed himself two seconds of moping and self-pity before shaking it off. He needed to work on a rescue plan, regardless of his lack of resources. The one thing he had plenty of right now was time.

*  *  *

Natasha woke up without giving any external sign of her awareness. She always did that when she slept in her suit. Fingers trailed through her hair in a slow, comforting rhythm, and from their coolness, she knew it must be Loki. She’d fallen asleep with her head on his lap when the exhaustion had just been too much.

Across the room, she could hear Steve talking to someone, his tone disappointed as he thanked them for looking. Under her head, she felt Loki’s thigh muscles tense, then forcibly relax. Another dead end, she thought sadly. She hadn’t really expected anything different. Whatever had happened to their third wasn’t an easy fix.

“Nothing?” Tony asked.

Steve shook his head. “No word from any of SHIELD’s various offices. Everyone knows to be on the lookout for him, though.”

“Good.” Iron Man was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, Natasha couldn’t hear his whispered question to Steve.

The fingers in her hair froze for a heartbeat. “If you’re referring to me,” Loki icily, “I’m fine.” His soothing stroke continued a moment later.

Natasha shifted and he lifted his hand. Her lover managed a smile for her, but it was wan and tight. She sat up and kissed him. “What time is it?” she asked.

“Two a.m.”

She flinched at the time. It’d been almost a full twenty-four hours since Phil had disappeared. “Have we found anything?”

Tony shook his head. “No. Nothing from SHIELD or any of the government agencies I can check. Or that JARVIS can hack, anyway.” He looked frustrated. “I’m about ready to look at the moon, just for something new.”

“I doubt he’s there,” Natasha said sharply, annoyed that the inventor was being even a little flippant. She knew that she was being somewhat irrational, but she was too heart-sick to care.

The door opened and Thor entered, his gaze locking on his brothers. She and Loki both sat up, because it was clear in the prince’s expression that he had news. “Brother,” he said, moving to sit on the bench next to Loki. “I bear news.”

“I’m not a fool, Thor. Everyone knows that.” Despite his hard words, there was hope in the jotun’s face. “What has Heimdall seen?”

“It is not what he saw,” Thor said, turning and waving to the small figure in the doorway. She was pink - not the human skin tone for a very rosy-hued person but a literal flower-petal hue. Her eyes were a purple that humans didn’t get without contacts. Despite hanging back in the doorway, Natasha could see her self-confidence and ease. Thor nodded to her as she approached. “This is Renala. She has a message for you.”

She stopped in front of Loki and knelt, keeping her head lowered. “Prince Loki, I come from Xandar. Nova Prime Irani Rael asked me to bring you word of Phil Coulson.”

“Is he alive?” Loki blurted the words without much of his normal composure.

“He is.” She dared to glance up then, her expression somber as Natasha felt some of the tension leave his body. “Nova Prime wished me to tell you that she regrets that she couldn’t send him back to you.”

“Why the hell not?” Natasha snapped sharply as Loki’s muscles turned to iron under her hand.

“The Xandarian treaty with the Kree requires that we send any Kree we find to them.” Renala watched him closely as she said, “The Nova Prime had reported his status before he told us he was your paramour.”

“Phil is not Kree,” Loki said, and the terrible anger in his voice made the Xandarian  woman flinch.

”He’s human,” Natasha added firmly.

“He is part Kree, by his genetics.” There was fear in the woman’s eyes but she held herself resolutely. “Terrian, as well an unknown third.”

“I am going to Xandar,” Loki announced, rising to his feet. “You may go before me and tell Nova Prime that I expect her full cooperation when I arrive.”

“Loki,” Natasha murmured, catching him by the arm. “We need to talk about this. Have a plan.”

Furious green eyes turned on her. “I have a plan. I’m going to Xandar to get what information they have, then I’m going to the Kree, and getting Phil back.”

“We have to worry about an alien invasion, too,” Natasha reminded him. “Phil can take care of himself. Besides, he wouldn’t want us leaving Earth in peril just to find him.”

Loki stared at her, then caught her by the arm. In his agitation, he gripped her too hard, but seemed to realize it immediately and eased his hold. With a gentleness that belied his scowl, he steered her over to the side of the room. “You don’t want to find him?” he asked, hurt and anger coiling together.

“I do, very much.” Natasha didn’t add, _I loved him first._ She didn’t think that would help. “But Loki, part of my love for Phil means doing what I know he’d want me to do, not what I want to do. If we save him, and we lose Earth to invaders, he won’t be happy.”

“The Kree are cruel and ruthless.” Loki took her gently by the shoulders. “I can’t leave him there.”

She drew a deep breath. “Then go. I’ll take care of the planet, and you bring our man home.”

“I couldn’t bear it if you died, either.” He pressed his forehead to hers and she leaned against him, drawing on his strength.

“Then I won’t,” she told him, knowing that she was making a promise she might not be able to keep. After all they’d gone through, she’d do anything to see them again. _Maybe_ , she mused as her gut twisted in grim acknowledgment, _Steve should be worried about me, not him._ “When you bring Phil home, I’ll be here, defending so there’s a home to come to.”

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I love you.” Turning his head, he kissed her, fervently and passionately. Natasha freed her arms so that she could throw her arms over his shoulders and cling to him. She ignored their audience as they said their silent farewells.

When they broke apart, Loki’s face set into hard lines. Turning to their pink guest, he ordered, “Take me to the Nova Prime.”

Natasha watched them leave, hoping that this wasn’t the last time she’d see him. When they were gone, she shut down the ache in her heart and turned her focus to the defense of their planet.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things. First, as always, thanks for reading, commenting and just supporting my stories. You are all awesome.
> 
> Second, this update is late because I have no cushion anymore. So next week’s update will probably not happen, as I take some time to build up a cushion again. I’m sorry to skip but I need to get back on track. Since I love AO3 so much, I'll post an excerpt of another one of my in-progress work instead, then delete it in two weeks and repost the new chapter. I can give you a taste of one of my other upcoming projects. Also, if you aren't reading my collaborative works, check them out in the meantime. Just go to my profile and you'll see Age of Miracles and Bound (an A/B/O variant).
> 
> Third, my original project Thirteen is live! It’s free and in serial format (updates on Mondays and Fridays). Since it’s done, there will be no delays in it posting. Check it out at: http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/about/thirteen/


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki makes friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter but I hope you enjoy!

The first obstacle in Loki’s quest was learning that Renala hadn’t arrived via a ship. Instead, she’d gone to Asgard to find him, and Heimdall had sent her down to Thor. Following her back to Xandar meant dealing with the Gatekeeper, who was being infuriating.

“Odin has forbidden you to step foot into Asgard,” Thor reminded him, frowning gently.

Loki glared at his adopted brother. “I am very well aware of my exile status, thank you. I have no desire to enter Asgard, merely use the Bifrost to pass through to Xandar.”

Renala watched with interest, her purple eyes moving from one to the other as they spoke. The bigger prince crossed his arms. “The Bifrost is part of Asgard.”

Loki took a deep breath, smoothing his expression to neutrality. “Thor, I _must_ use it. There is no other way to recover Phil.”

“Father will not allow it.” Thor tilted his head meaningfully. “Perhaps if you would _apologize_. . .” He let his words trail off suggestively.

“If that is what it takes.” There was no hesitation in his reply; he’d do _anything_ to save his lover.

Thor opened his mouth to reply when the rainbow lights of the Bifrost surrounded Loki and the strange alien; the jotun grinned with relief as he teleported up into the golden dome. “Thank you, Heimdall,” he said the moment he rematerialized.

“Do not thank me, prince. I do the King’s bidding, no more.” The towering guard drew the sword out of the mechanism, straightening. “You will wait for his arrival.”

“I see.” Loki looked to the bridge; at the end, he could see the dark form of Sleipnir racing toward them. _Oh, joy._

Renala gasped as the King drew closer, dropping to her knees and bowing her head. Loki remaining standing, his green eyes daring the King to demand he kneel.

Instead, Odin dismounted and moved in front of him. The two men stared in silence for a long moment. Finally, Loki asked, “Yes?”

Odin tapped his spear on the floor once. “I’m waiting for your promised apology.”

The jotun felt his cheeks burn but he bowed his head and said, “I’m sorry.”

“For?” the king asked.

Loki knew how this game was played. “I’m sorry for all the wrong I did to you, and for the disappointment I caused.”

Odin’s lips set in a hard line. “You speak the words but you have no feeling behind them.”

“I have given my apology,” Loki said, though it had pained him to do so. _Phil. Think of Phil._

“I see.” Odin’s whole eye stared at him, his blue orb piercing. “You are given leave to use the Bifrost, but until you feel regret for your actions, you’ll not be allowed home.” Even as Loki relaxed with relief, the AllFather turned and stalked away, leaving his foster son feeling oddly bereft.

“Where shall I send you?” Heimdall asked abruptly.

Loki looked to Renala, who was just rising from her frantic bow. “Xandar,” she said, “near the capital, please.”

He smiled gently at her. “So where I picked you up from?”

“Yes,” she admitted, hunching her shoulders and peering at her toes.

The golden-hued Asgardian placed the sword back in the mechanism. He twisted it into place, sending a message through the machine that only it could hear. Then he shoved it down, and Loki felt the teleporter take him again.

They appeared in a sunny plaza, looking up at a massive building. The sigil of the Bifrost was stamped into the stones under their feet. The jotun glanced around, wary of danger, then followed his guide as she headed toward the doors.

They were met by security. One nervous-looking man stepped forward and said, “Prince Loki, the Nova Prime is not available to see you.”

“All I need is to speak to someone who knows the status and location of Phil Coulson.” Loki stared at the man as if his intent alone could return his Phil to him.

“I can help with that.” The man who spoke wasn’t a guard; he wore a Ravager’s garb and had been lingering by the door. “I’ve been asking about him myself.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at the interloper. “Why?”

“Because he and I share genetic code. Maybe even enough to be half-brothers.” The man shrugged. “But since he was part-Kree, too, they had to turn him over to them.”

“They being Xandarians,” Loki prompted, trying to be sure that he had all the facts, “and them being the Kree. Can I see Phil’s genetic code?”

“I guess.” The guy put his hands on his hip. “Are you a friend or something?”

“His lover,” the jotun replied. “I am Prince Loki, exiled King of Asgard. Who are you?”

The royal titles didn’t even phase the guy, so he was well-traveled. There were thousands of royal families of varying power in the known universe, though Asgard’s kingdom was one of the most powerful. “I’m Peter Quill, but you may know me as Star-Lord.”

“No, I don’t know you as such.” Loki tilted his head. “Can you help me get his code?”

“I can ask Rhomann.” Quill turned and sauntered off, leaving Loki to follow. They wound through the building, and Loki noted the way that people deferred to Quill. He was obviously beloved by the people of this planet.

Rhomann was a guard, but like Quinn, he seemed to have a special status here. Quill introduced Loki to him, then added, “He wants to see that Coulson guy’s records.”

“Especially his genetic records.” Loki needed to understand what had been done to his lover. “Then I need to know where he was taken.”

“I can tell you which Kree Lord picked him up, and which direction they went, but after they leave our space, I’m not much help.” Rhomann nodded, looking guilty as he said, “We had to turn him over to them.”

“You had a choice,” Loki said coolly. “You made it. Pray your people don’t pay for it.”

“Whoa, dude! Take a chill pill.” Quill held out a hand. “They had a treaty.”

Loki glared at him for interrupting again. “I’m not saying that their choice had a strong reason behind it. A choice was still made.”

“This is why we’re cooperating with you.” Rhomann leaned forward a little. “Consider it the best we can do.”

Loki bit back further anger. The best they could have done was protect his lover. Raining his fury down on them would only impede Phil’s return. If anything happened to him, however, the Xandarians would pay for it. “I thank you for all services you can render now,” he said instead.

First Rhomann showed him the genetic code, in the form of a visual display. Loki studied it for a time, his training in Asgardian magic sufficing enough to allow him to interpret it. Phil’s genetics were clearly manufactured, with some of the alterations to his code done crudely. It took him a moment, but the jotun prince realized that the changes to his genome matched Kree genetics, while the others were a natural human hybrid. _Phil was never completely human_ , he thought to himself, wondering what else his lover didn’t know about himself.

“See, he and I are very alike,” Quill said, as Rhomann put up another image. Loki compared them closely, nodding at the similarity. “If they hadn’t fused Kree into him, we’d be close relations.”

“Half-human, half-what?” Loki asked.

“They don’t know.” Peter looked more intrigued than worried. “Something old.”

That opened up a few possibilities, none of them good. Loki turned to Rhomann. “Can you show me their course?”

“Sure.” The guard touched a few controls and brought up an interstellar map, showing the path the Kree ship had taken.

“Very well. I need transport,” Loki told them.

Rhomann frowned, even as he nodded. “Oh, I’ll see what I can arrange, but after the attack, our resources are a little tied up. It’ll take some time--”

“We can take him.” Quill spoke eagerly. “The _Milano_ is ready to go.”

“Then let’s depart. They have enough of a head start.” Loki gestured toward the door. “Please led the way.” When Quill did so without arguing, Loki felt a wave of relief. They were on their way to find Phil, and there were no more obstacles. He was feeling almost buoyant -- until he saw Gamora. “Shit,” he sighed.

She turned and saw him, her face scrunching into a scowl. “What are you doing here?”

“So,” Quill said, his eyebrows rising, “I guess you two have met.”

 

 


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunate alliances are made.

“I’m a little surprised that you contacted us, to be honest,” Fury said to the woman across the table. “SWORD doesn’t normally reach out to us.” Usually, SHIELD had to go begging to the secretive agency it had created for any intel or resources.

Abigail Brand smiled tightly. “This is a matter that reaches well beyond jurisdictional pissing matches.”

“That’s new,” the Director of SHIELD said bluntly. He folded his hands together and leaned forward. “Why?”

“Because SWORD is supposed to protect the planet from extraterrestrials, but we lack a team of superheroes to aid us in that task.” Brand mirrored his position, her green hair sliding over her shoulders. “I’m hoping to make use of yours.”

Fury’s eyebrows rose. “I’m afraid you can’t afford to rent them by the hour.” Her expression flattened with irritation and he held up a hand. “If you want the Avengers to aid you on a mission, then we’ll need specifics.”

Brand didn’t like that; her chin rose imperiously but they both knew she shouldn’t try to bowl him over with her personality. “I understand. May I assume that unless I share those specifics with you, the Avengers will never hear of my request?”

“You’re free to contact them yourself.” Fury smiled like a shark. “I’m prepared to make introductions for you and smooth things over. Knowing what you’ll be bringing to them will help with the introductions.”

Brand sighed. “Agent Hawkeye approached me with proof of an impending alien invasion.”

“ _ Agent _ Hawkeye?” Fury questioned sharply.

“I didn’t say he was a SHIELD agent,” Brand said, her lips twitching slightly.

Fury decided she’d liked eliciting an emotional response out of him. “He’s a damned traitor,” the SHIELD director growled. “He’s also not what I’d consider a valid source of intel.”

“It corroborates what we’re hearing from other sources.” Brand swept her green hair over her shoulder, and Fury knew he’d have to pry those sources out of her, inch by inch. “The interstellar chatter of an imminent invasion has been building for a while.” 

“And you didn’t feel this was necessary to tell us?” Fury snapped.

“By ‘a while’, I mean fifty years.” Brand was unfazed by his anger. “It’s possible that it’s existed before that, but we only have evidence going back that far.”

“When SHIELD started to collect it.” Fury didn’t miss the chance to remind her of what SWORD owed them. She dipped her head in silent acknowledgement. After a moment of silence, Fury continued, “What makes you think that I’m going to trust anything Clint Barton says?”

“Because it’s not him saying it, and you’re going to want to know about the vipers in your breast,” Brand said. He narrowed his eyes at her, but she just passed him a thumb drive. As he studied it distrustfully, she added, “Put up your security protocols.”

He did that through his console, unwilling to reveal even the voice prompts to her. They were supposed to be allies, but she’d shaken her faith in that status today. Once he’d read what was in the file, he was even more shaken.

*  *  * 

Steve had a bad feeling about the briefing even before Fury arrived. Tensions on the team had mostly abated with Loki’s departure, but it wasn’t all gone. Adding Sam had been a relief and a stark reminder of the betrayal they’d already suffered. Natasha was still wound tight; her features as smooth as ever but the tells there for those who knew her. 

When Fury entered the room, he didn’t wave or greet them, nor did he let them offer pleasantries. “HYDRA has shared information with us through SWORD. If that wasn’t terrifying enough, I’ve seen enough intel from other sources in SWORD to deem it credible.”

“Care to start at the beginning?” Tony asked sharply.

Fury glared at him. “For decades, SHIELD and SWORD has been gathering intel on alien activity on Earth. One of their favorite pastimes has been seducing and impregnating human women across the globe. While family planning is not SHIELD’s forte, we do become concerned when those children when they infiltrate government or disappear.”

“How deep is their penetration, and in what countries?” Natasha asked.

“Unknown, because we only know of a few of them.” Fury sighed. “The mothers don’t always admit what happened, or they have a partner to stand in as the father. Right now, we know that there are potentially six hundred worldwide, but that includes the four hundred missing children. Abigail Brand, Director of SWORD, suspects another seven thousand human-alien hybrids. That suspicion comes from monitoring people who seem to be communicating without any means of doing so. They’re not making phone calls or sending emails, but they are passing intel among themselves.

“When they do show up on the radar, they’re always in higher positions,” the director continued. “In government, powerful positions in large, international companies, and doing cutting edge research. The ones we know of are everywhere, even in your company, Stark.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Will I get a list of those who work for me?”

“Of course,” Fury replied. “But it may be too late. We do have proof that one of these human hybrids was John Garrett.” The director glanced to see if anyone was confused; when he saw Sam was, he quickly explained who Garrett was and what he’d been responsible for so far. “He’s the one who’s arranged this invasion, though his motives are unclear.”

“So we have the Children of the Corn, led by the master psycho himself. Got it.” Tony tilted his head. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan is to pool agency resources into one grouping.” The muscles in Fury’s jaw bunched. “SHIELD, SWORD . . . and HYDRA.”

“You are  _ not _ serious!” Tony snapped, even as Steve shook his head. 

“I am deadly serious, because that’s the level of this threat: deadly to the entire world.” Fury paused to look each of them in the eye. “The Chautari times ten, because this won’t be through a portal that we can close. They’ll be coming to us.”

“Do you really think that the fucking traitor is trustworthy?” Tony asked sharply.

Fury gave him an irritated glare. “Of course not but right now, I need him. We need him, for his resources, his information, and his skills. And when we don’t need him anymore, I’m going to bury him in a hole in the ground.” 

“Natasha?” Tony looked at her. “Are you okay with this?”

_ I’m alone because I put my homeworld over my lovers. If I can do that, I can work with the person who betrayed me _ , she thought. Aloud, all she said was, “If it saves the earth, then I’m fine. Afterward, we can deal with Clint on the personal issues.”

Steve put a hand on her shoulder but his words weren’t for her. “Director, have you spoken with Hawkeye?”

“No. The next step is to talk with Director Barnes of SWORD. She’s acting as the mediator in this situation.” Fury sat back in his seat. “She’ll liaise between us until such a point that both of us are willing to be in the same room together.”

“That’ll be a while,” Tony snorted.

“Exactly,” Fury growled. “I don’t like this either, but we have zero choices.”

*  *  *

“I have no other options,” Loki growled for the sixth time, “else I would not be imposing my presence on you, Gamora.”

Gamora’s weapons stayed out, pointing at him. “You’re imperialist scum who wanted to dominate a world solely because your brother loved it!”

“My homeworld, I’ll add,” Peter said gruffly as he pointed twin pistols at him, and Loki resisted the urge to grind his teeth. His help was evaporating due to one woman’s insufferable intolerance.

“Yes, fine,” he snapped, holding up his hands. “I wanted to hurt my brother, but the invasion of Midgard was Thanos’s idea, not mine. He made it mine, through the sceptre, and he jerked that leash any time I deviated from his chosen course.”

Some of the raw fury left her eyes, though the swords remained out. “You would not be alone in that,” she said curtly, narrowing her eyes at him. “You were too old for his usual methods.”

“Also, I’d almost enjoy watching him attempt to kill Odin,” Loki added with a bitter snort. 

“He’s a Titan,” Peter pointed out.

“And Odin is the All-Father, with all of Asgard’s resources.” Loki smothered the grim pride in his voice. “If Asgard and Odin were easily taken, they would be besieged already. The Dark Elves made a good attempt, but even they failed.” 

“Whatever.” Peter waved his hand in the air. “So you’re saying that Thanos mind controlled you?”

“Yes, though that is an oversimplification,” Loki sighed. “Can we put the weapons away and  _ talk _ ?”

“Talking is a weapon for you, Loki,” Gamora spat.

“I can write if you’d prefer,” the jotun replied wearily. “Can we communicate, somehow?”

Peter looked to Gamora. The green-skinned woman stared at Loki for a long moment before she lowered her weapons, an action Peter mirrored. She kept her hands on the hilts as she added, “I’ll listen to you. Briefly.”

Loki bowed his head. “It’s a long story, but the shortest version I can give you is this: my lover has been taken from Earth, and given over to the Kree. None of us knew he was part-Kree, which is why they demanded him. I know you have no love for me, Gamora,” Loki added sincerely, “but if you refuse to do it for me, please do it for a man who has been captured and taken far from his home.”

Gamora’s expression softened at his words. Loki had never thought her to be soft-hearted or easily swayed by emotion; he remembered a hardened warrior who did her “father’s” bidding without question. Both of the women had seemed heartless living statues, more interested in Thanos’s whims than empathy. Pleasantly, he had been wrong.

“How do we know that he wants to be rescued?” Peter asked, his gaze suspicious.

“You can ask him when we find him,” Loki promised. “I would never make Phil do anything, including stay by my side.” He believed that Phil would never leave him, though. 

The two Guardians looked at one another, and the decision were made. “We will,” Peter promised gruffly. 

“We should get moving, then.” Gamora led the way into the ship, and with a last look at Loki, Peter followed. The jotun heaved a sigh of relief and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an ending. I'm writing on this when I can, but I can no longer promise when updates will occur. I'm not giving up on this story; I know where it's going. It'll be done, but I don't know when. 
> 
> I'm sorry I can't give you assurances about the timeline. I hope you enjoy it.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil learns his fate, and Loki has an awkward conversation with an old almost-friend.

Phil had seen this movie, and it didn’t end well for the guy strapped to the table. Unfortunately, that was supposed to be him.

The Kree had removed him from his cell and marched him off the ship. He had one on each arm, their fingers digging into his muscles. They were at some kind of port or station; he hadn’t seen the outside at all and the air smelled musty and stale, as if it had been recycled too often.The long hallway from the ship was gray and featureless, as was the next hallway, and Phil started to get a sense of deja vu. So far, it gave off the feeling of every research base-cum-prison he’d ever seen.

Those suspicions were confirmed when he was taken into a lab. It had a single exam table with restraints. “No, I don’t think so!” he grunted, taking a step back and driving his elbow into the guard’s ribs on the right. The Kree doubled over and Phil head-butted the one on the left. That guard staggered away, and Phil ran for it.

He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew he wasn’t going into that room without a fight. He went down one hallway, and then another and another, until he was totally lost. He wanted to find an escape craft or something, but all that was available were more halls and labs.

Phil knew he was running out of time, and then he rounded a corner to face a half-dozen armed guards. He turned to run back the way he’d come and they followed him. He wasn’t encouraged by the lack of shooting; death would have been more comfortable than whatever they had planned.

Another group waited around the next corner, and Phil lowered his head and charged. It was futile and he knew it would be, but he refused to take defeat without a fight. He slammed into the first one, who went down under him. He managed to knock the wind out of him, but the other eleven guys piled on him. By the time they got off of him, Phil was tightly bound.

They dragged him back to the room, sliding him on the smooth floor like a sack of potatoes. He continued to fight, but they all knew it was over. He was lifted onto the table, and his bindings were replaced with restraints. It took three men to uncurl each of his limbs with the others holding him down. Even when bound, he strained against them as hard as he could, sure that whatever they had planned for him was a nightmare.

The guards left except for two. He laid there for hours -- he had no idea how long. When the next four people entered, Phil’s gut tightened harder. They weren’t guards, not dressed in those long overalls and coats. He jerked on the restraints again as a long-faced woman moved to his side and viewed him critically. Her tanned skin clashed with bright red hair, shorn short. “Has he been this violent?” she asked the guards, as the other three moved to various pieces of equipment and started to work.

“He was complacent until we arrived here, then he became violent,” one of them reported.

She frowned. “Do you know why?” The two guards shrugged wordlessly.

“I can talk for myself,” Phil said.

“Oh, good.” She grinned at him. “Why did you become aggressive once on the station?”

“Because I saw this room, and I know what happens in places like this,” Phil told her.

“What happens?” She tilted her head in curiousity.

“Experiments.” Just saying the word set his teeth on edge.

“I prefer to call them ‘truth-finding expeditions’. I understand that you’d be wary of the concept since the expedition is into your physical being.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “You are a Kree-human hybrid, but there is something else in your genetics. I have been charged by my superiors to determine what.” She held up a thick syringe. “This will hurt.”

*  *  *

The _Milano_ was possibly the dirtiest ship Loki had ever sat foot on, but he didn’t complain, aloud or to himself. If she would deliver him to Phil, she could have been a flying barrel.

However, he was perfectly happy to complain about the lack of space. “There’s no reason why someone can’t give me their room, when they are awake and otherwise occupied, for me to sleep,” he said, rather reasonably.

“If someone were willing,” Peter growled, “they’d already offered. You can sleep in the common room.”

“Yes, I could,” Loki said with the last thread of his patience, “except that is always someone using the area for something. Drax sharpening his blades. Rocket building something. Gamora practicing. Groot grooting. You . . . ugh, masterbating.”

“One time!” Peter insisted sharply, his skin flushing.

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, if you had actual money on you, you could rent our room,” Rocket reminded him.

Loki resisted the urge to scream. “And if wishes were Slepnir, Odin would ride,” he snarled, glaring at them. A second later, he realized the solution. “Very well, you leave me no choice,” he told the assembled Guardians. “I shall sleep in the nude.”

“No, no, not on my ship in my common room!” Peter sputtered.

“You can have mine.” Gamora didn’t even glance up from the datapad she was studying. “I will spare the rest of the crew that particular horror.”

“Spare-- Wait, how do you know what horror he is?” Peter asked suspiciously.

She finally looked up, glancing from Peter to Loki. “I’ve seen him naked, of course. Having sex with Thanos’s thralls was one of the few rebellions left to me.”

“You’ve had sex with him?” Peter asked, eyes wide.

Gamora gave him a flat look. “Are you sure you want to cast that particular judgment, Peter?”

His lips pressed together. “I, uh, do not.”

“I’ll ask,” Rocket said, his white teeth glinting against his dark smile. “I thought you hated him, so why do the dirty deed?”

Gamora sighed, glancing at Loki again. “We didn’t. Before I learned his intentions for Earth, I did offer to have sex with him. Once I found out, I wouldn’t have touched him.”

“So, then why would you say you’ve seen him naked?” Peter frowned.

“She propositioned me at an awkward moment,” Loki interjected. When Rocket rotated his hand to encourage him to keep speaking, Loki said, “I was cleansing myself. She entered the room and offered.”

“Why would you turn her down, because I sure as hell wouldn’t,” Peter said. Gamora glared at him, then rose and stalked to her room.

Loki frowned at her retreating back, feeling a fissure of concern for the woman. “What?” Peter asked as her door closed. “What, it was a compliment.”

“Because at the time, she and I had a very good discussion about my refusal,” Loki told him. “I explained I wasn’t interested in sex, and she accepted that answer. We forged the beginning of a friendship, until Thanos twisted my mind and she stopped talking to me.” At least now he knew why.

“So you don’t like sex? Were you molested as a child or something?” Peter asked, confused.

“I find that question insulting.” Loki drew himself up stiffly. “One does not need to have trauma to not want sex. My people do not desire sex outside of a romantic relationship. Had I fallen in love with Gamora, then I would have been delighted to have sex with her.”

Before Quill could insult him again, Loki rose and tapped on Gamora’s door. She opened it, her expression already irritated before she saw him; that irritation morphed into anger. “What do you want?”

“To thank you. For sharing your room.” He tipped his head to her. “May I enter?”

She stepped back and waved him inside. As the door closed, Loki could feel Peter’s eyes boring into him. “Is that all?” she asked coolly.

He drew a deep breath to fortify himself before doing something unpleasant. “I’m sorry that I lost your friendship by becoming a shit.”

Her eyebrows jumped at that. “I didn’t think you apologized. If I remember right, princes don’t admit to mistakes.”

“Neither do exiled kings, but here we are.” Loki smiled bitterly.

Gamora studied him a moment, her dark eyes roving over his face. “You’ve changed,” she noted softly. “You’re not the same being I remember.”

“I have indeed.” He took his turn to study her. Loneliness pulled at him; strange how quickly Phil and Natasha had changed that for him. Being alone hurts now, where before it enraged him -- feed his core of bitterness. “I have changed,” he admitted, “by men who made your forced father’s actions seem gentle in comparison.”

She remained quiet as he told her about Logan -- how the other man came to be, and how part of him remained. He talked about Grant, and John, and the friendship and ideals built completely on lies. He talked of Barton’s betrayal and the desperate swim through the storm. He told her about the island, and how much he hated being trapped there with Coulson and Romanov. He told her about songs at the campfire, and killing a shark, and Phil and Natasha crept into his heart. He told her about the storm that showed them Phil’s weakness, and the confessions and kisses after. He told her because she listened in silence, her eyes and face without judgment.

“Wow,” she said when he was done. “I’m sorry you went through that.” He swallowed against sudden emotion, not expecting this sympathy. She went on, commenting, “I’m not sure what to say, even.”

“Say you’ll rescue Phil, if I cannot,” he told her. “If something happens to me, tell me you’ll see him back to Earth. Or at least Asgard, where Thor can take him home.”

“I will,” she vowed. “For Phil, and Natasha.” She tilted her head. “Do you love Earth as you love them?”

“What?” He blinked at her, unsure of what she was asking.

“Natasha stayed on Earth because of her love for her people, and from what you’ve said, Phil’s devoted to his planet’s safety, too.” She watched him closely as she asked, “What about you?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “I love them, but their world has never been anything to me.” _Except when I was Logan._ He remembered loving Midgard then, and their people, too. He’d wanted to protect them from themselves. “Not to the real me.”

She studied him in silence until even his patience worn thin. “What?” he asked, too sharply.

“You said that there are pieces of you that are left from being brainwashed.” Gamora’s perceptiveness annoyed him. “Have you reconciled them?”

Loki bit back the urge to lie. “Not completely.”

“Did he love earth or Midgard or whatever you call it?” She tilted her head as she asked, her eyes interested.

“Logan did, yes,” he said softly. “You think I should use that remaining fragment of psyche to create love for that world?”

“I’m not saying you _should_ ,” Gamora corrected quickly. “If you want to, you have a unique option available to you. And you might want to do it if you want to share that love with your partners.”

It was a worthy thought. Perhaps if he did, he might understand why Natasha had stayed behind instead of coming to find Phil with him.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot advances. 
> 
> (Sorry guys, that's really all I've got.)

After a week and a half of second-hand negotiations though Abigail Brand, Fury was ready to just fucking deal with Barton himself. This game of telephone was turning dangerous: the more intense and in-depth the planning got, the more Fury itched to know exactly what Brand and Barton were saying to one another. He knew he was a suspicious bastard, and right now, he didn’t trust the other two. Even Brand had been tainted by her initial willingness to work with his traitorous former agent. 

He still wasn’t ready for it when he was sitting across the conference table from the asshole. Barton had a perpetual smirk on his face and hadn’t taken his eyes off Fury yet. Brand sat at the head of the table, with two of her people standing right behind her. Fury could feel Rogers and Natasha standing behind him, both of them strung tight with readiness. Hawkeye had Ricochet at one shoulder, but the other person with him, a quiet young woman in HYDRA garb, took the seat next to his. 

“Nick, how have you been?” Barton asked with his best ‘why-yes-I-am-an-asshole’ tone. 

“We are not on a first name basis, Barton.” Fury narrowed his eye at the other man. “We’re here to facilitate the defense of Earth. Once that’s done, I’ll be happy to go back to kicking your ass.”

Barton chuckled. “Same old Fury. All business.”

“Yes, so let’s got to it and get it done.” he demanded.

“Right. Dana?” At Barton’s question, the girl next to him straightened and held up a remote. Fury tensed, and he heard Rogers and Natasha draw in preparatory breathes.

The girl clicked a button and the screen at the end of the room lit up. While Ricochet and Hawkeye smirked at the SHIELD members’ tension, Dana said, “Thanks to Brand’s connections, we know who we’re dealing with: Ra.” The picture on screen was a blurry shot of a glowing male being. He looked human, but the details were obscured by the light. “This is SWORD’s only picture of the Titan in question.”

“A Titan is a very powerful being. They have the kind of power that humanity writes about in science we-think-it's-fiction and comics,” Brand said drily. “Thankfully, we’re not facing Thanos.”

“So is it coincidence that he’s named after an Egyptian god?” Fury’s question ended with an acidic bite. 

“Sorta,” Dana said, clicking the remote again to draw up an image of a triangular ship floating in space. “Their real names are impossible to pronounce, so they usually are given names that match our mythology.”

“I had to ask, since I’ve met Thor,” the Director noted. “So what’s the deal with this Ra?”

“He’s your typical invader-slash-tyrant who sees himself as a superior being and that gives him the right to crush us under his heel,” Dana said tartly, scowling at the screen.

“Sounds like a prime HYDRA recruit.” Natasha delivered the slam so blandly that it took Dana a moment to catch it.

“HYDRA doesn’t think it’s superior,” the assistant said hotly, “only that true peace comes at a price.”

“The price of freedom,” Steve remarked. 

Dana opened her mouth, her cheeks turning red. Barton put a hand on her arm and her lips pressed firmly shut. “I don’t think we should discuss our various ideologies, not if we want to keep this meeting on track,” Barton said softly. He raised his eyebrows questionally at Dana and she nodded in acquiescence. 

“What can we do to prepare Earth for this Titan?” Fury asked, willing to get the ball rolling again. The longer they argued pointlessly, the longer he had to stare that traitorous motherfucker in the face. 

“We take away the soldiers he’s been fathering,” Brand said, her scowl deepening.

“Have you seen the people on that list?” Fury asked her sharply. He had memorized it himself: from the highest Senator to the lowliest menial wage slave. “How do you plan to  _ take _ some of those people away?”

“Black ops, of course. HYDRA can remove them - start at the top and work our way down,” Barton said. “If SWORD and SHIELD help, we should be able to get the top one percent in a couple of days. Group them in lists starting from the most dangerous to the least, and start with list one.”

“Generals, politicians, and CEOs from around the world start to disappear, and you think no one’s going to ask questions?” Fury asked.

“I know they’ll ask,” Barton answered, clasping his hands calmly before him on the table. “We’ll have to brief the world governments.”

“They’ll never believe us.” Captain America shook his head. “I wouldn’t believe us.”

Barton shrugged. “So long as we do it after we have the alien-human hybrids contained, it doesn’t matter what they believe. Ra’s coming to us. So long as we hide these people away well enough, by the time that everyone gets their asses in gear enough to  _ act _ , we’ll have proof.”

“We’re locking these people up because of who their parents are?” Captain America asked, his voice taut with outrage. 

“Yes,” Brand said, “because they’ve been working together through means unknown against the good of their own people. Or half their people. We’re not convicting them, Captain. This is not a permanent lockdown. This is an emergency, and afterwards, we’ll treat them as fairly as possible, and bring them to justice where applicable.”

“It feels wrong,” Rogers muttered, and Fury resisted the urge to turn around and study the other man. He itched to know if the First Avenger was going to work against them in the name of righteousness.

“It’s a war. In war, even the cooks get put in POW camps.” Romanov’s words were perfect, and Fury relaxed a little. “Director Brand. You said something about proof.”

“Yes, in the form of Xietsian warships in Earth’s orbit,” Brand said, waving to Dana. The admin silently clicked her remote again, pulling up a partial schematic of a spaceship. “Much as the Chitauri serve Thanos, the Xietsi worship Ra. They are fanatics in his service. Dozens of these in the sky disgorging enemy combatants should make a  _ very _ compelling argument.” 

Dana pressed her button again and pulled up an image of six aliens. They weren’t as big as the Chitauri had been, but they were four armed, bearing a futuristic longarm and some kind of energy shield. The picture made them look very competent and deadly, and his gut clenched to think of them running rampant in his world. “I have a full file on them,” Dana was saying as he pulled his gaze away from the picture. “In the interest of time, I’ll let you read them outside of this meeting.”

“Thanks.” Barton leaned forward, meeting Fury’s gaze. “Will SHIELD help us?”

Many people assumed the Director of SHIELD was amoral. That wasn’t true. Fury had a very good idea of right and wrong, but he never let that guide his actions. He was all-too sure that horrible things had to happen to prevent worse events. He’d seen it over and over again, and what always guided his hand was the hard numbers: what would cost the most innocent lives?

Six billion versus six thousand wasn’t even a close equation. “No unnecessary killing,” Fury demanded. 

Barton relaxed and smiled. “Self-defense only. I’ve already cleaned HYDRA’s house, so we can start pulling people in immediately.” 

“SHIELD facilities will be made available to hold them,” Fury continued as if Hawkeye hadn’t spoken. “I want to know where they are, and how they’re being treated.”

The archer made a face. “Ooo, where’s the trust?” 

“Long gone, Barton,” he answered seriously.

“Fine by me,” Brand interjected. “SHIELD can play host; HYDRA and SWORD will acquire the hybrids.” 

Captain America shifted uncomfortably and Fury made a note to keep a close eye on the hero. “There is another thing that SHIELD can do,” Brand added, pulling Fury’s eye to her. “Talk to Prince Thor. See if he can invoke his people to act given his declaration of being ‘Midgard’s defender’.”

“I’ll ask,” Fury promised. “What about you? Do you have any off-planet allies we can call on?”

Brand sighed testily. “I’ve already started reaching out. We have to be careful though, or we’ll fight off the Xietsi only to end up invaded by our former protectors.”

Fury ground his teeth at the implication in her voice but outwardly he just nodded. “Understood. Let us know if you come up with something that will help.”

“Of course.” The green-haired woman looked around the table. “Are we done, then?”

“I think we are,” Barton said, “aside from the details of working out who to pick up first.”

A flash of irritation crossed her expression, and Fury decided that Brand disliked working with Barton as much as he did.  _ She could hate working with you just as much, _ he thought to himself. He knew he could be a trying, demanding bastard. It was just the way he liked it, too.

“Then let’s get it done,” SWORD’s Director said testily, and the three heads settled in to work out the specifics.

*  *  *

“Are you seriously okay with this?” Steve asked softly.

Natasha glanced forward, where Fury was piloting the Quinjet. “Define ‘okay’,” she sighed, already knowing how this conversation was likely to go.

“We’re grabbing people for no reason other than we  _ think _ they might be dangerous,” he hissed. 

There were so many replies she could make to that, and not one of them would change his opinion. “Do you have a better idea?” she asked coolly. 

“Trust them. Give them a chance to show us whose side they’re on,” he said. 

“The number of people -- innocent people -- at risk from that plan makes it unacceptable.” Natasha loved who Steve was, but sometimes, the person he was could be unrealistic. 

“This is wrong,” he insisted.

Natasha drew a deep breath. “Steve, Phil was on that list.” Before she and Fury had quietly removed his name, since he was gone. “And I saw alien tech take him over and remove everything that was Phil. You’re right, we should give them the chance to prove themselves but there is no guarantee that they’d actually get that chance.”

He shook his head, stubborn as ever. “There has to be another choice.”

“We should talk to Tony.” An idea was taking root in her head, and she needed his input. Whatever squabbles they had were unimportant compared to the fate of Earth. “And to Thor.” 

“You have an idea, don’t you?” he asked hopefully.

“Maybe. I need someone to talk to me about the science of it.” She didn’t want to get his hopes up, especially since she wasn’t sure he’d like it any better than Fury’s. It would alleviate some of the danger to the people they’d be snatching up, however, and would keep them out of HYDRA’s hands completely. She needed to distract him, so she asked, “How’s Bucky?”

He smiled and his expression lost some of the tension. “Better every day,” he said. Her own smile was wiped away when he added, “If you wanted to change the subject, you can just tell me.”

Natasha snorted and smiled fondly at him. “You’re getting too savvy, old man.”

“Only took ninety years.” Steve leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Wake me when we get there.”

She nodded and moved forward to talk to Fury about getting them to New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said in previous notes that I'm not giving up on this work. I'm really not, it's just taking forever. I'm sorry about that, but I hope in the next five chapters I can move into the final push of the story. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me so far. You're the best. :)


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things move forward.

 

“So that’s what we’re up against,” Steve said, nodding his thanks to the ceiling. He was the only other Avenger who regularly remembered basic courtesy to JARVIS, and Tony appreciated it. In fact, Steve sometimes remembered more often than Tony himself did, but then he was Captain America. He had to be perfect, or close to it, to keep up the shine and sparkle of his reputation. The fact that Steve didn’t even see it that way made him even more perfect. “Questions or comments?”

“So we have a godlike being invading with his minions,” Tony started before glancing at Natasha. He’d promised Pepper he’d try to be better, so he quickly amended his slam on Loki into a more neutral, “Must be a Tuesday.”

Bruce snorted. “What do we know about the invaders? Weak points? Any biology we can exploit?” He glanced around at the expressions at the table. “What? _War of the Worlds_ was my favorite story as a kid.”

“So it’s right where your head goes,” Steve said with a smile. “It’s a good thought. Natasha, you said you had something you wanted to run by Thor?”

“It’s two things, actually,” she said, leaning forward in her chair. “The first is: I want to borrow Sif and the Warriors Three for planetary defense. I think that if they were willing to help, it’d give us a good edge.”

Thor nodded. “Normally, I’d have to ask my father, but Sif and the Warriors are long known to be my personal friends. I shall ask, and I believe they will give their support. Their aid in fulfilling my vow of aid to Midgard will not cause a political incident.”

“That’s too bad,” Natasha said with a wry smile, “because I wanted to ask if Asgard would be willing to capture and possibly hold the hybrids.”

“I thought HYDRA’s grabbing them?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

Natasha locked eyes with Thor. “Not if your Bifrost guardian moves them to Asgard first.”

“You want Heimdall to transport them to my father’s realm?” Thor looked aghast. It was too bad; Tony already liked the idea, and it was rare for him to warm up to a thought that quickly -- unless it was his own, of course.

“Yes, and detain them there.” Natasha pushed her stance, despite Thor’s clear reluctance. “It keeps HYDRA from getting their hands on the hybrids -- or on their intel.”

“I see the value in your request,” Thor stated with a frown, “yet I do not know if Odin will see it.”

“Can you ask?” Natasha kept her tone light-hearted instead of begging. The prince frowned and she added, “The worst he can do is say no.”

“While not completely true, it is the worst that my father would do,” Thor told her gravely.

As Tony wondered with horror what was worse, Natasha smiled. “Thank you. If he would, it would be tremendous help.”

“Even if he'd consent to grabbing and moving them for us, it'd help.” Tony leaned back in his chair and pointed out, “SHIELD has the containment facilities. We're just trying to cut HYDRA out of the ‘capture’ part of the deal.”

“He would likely be more agreeable to that,” Thor said.

“I can work with that.” Natasha relaxed into her seat.

“What about some advanced tech aid?” Tony asked. This was a request he expected to be denied outright but as Natasha had said, it never hurt to ask.

“I will inquire,” Thor promised, though his expression said that Tony shouldn’t get his hopes up too high.

“If it helps, I’ll pay for it,” Tony offered with a grin, knowing that nothing he had would be valued by the King of Asgard. “Gold bullion, priceless gems, high-quality porn -- Odin names it, it’s his.”

“I doubt he’ll want porn,” Natasha snorted.

“You know how kinky royal can be, all that repression festering for years.” Tony knew he was probably upsetting Thor but he couldn’t stop. It was an illness: Foot-in-Mouth Syndrome. Someday, it’d be acknowledged by the medical community, he was sure of it.

“I will speak with my father, I can promise no more than that.” Thor raised his voice sharply, his terse tone convincing Tony to decide to let it go -- this time.

“Anyone have anything else for Thor? Or anyone?” Steve asked, pulling the conversation away from the discomforting arc it had taken.

“Anything from Loki?” Natasha tried to ask it casually, but her hope was naked in her voice.

“Nothing more since he left word that he was traveling with the Guardians of the Galaxy,” Thor told her gravely and with a straight expression. It was better than Tony managed, who still had to hide his giggles (yes, Tony giggled, or so Natasha would claim until her dying day) any time the group’s ostentatious name was mentioned.

“Thank you, Thor,” she said, smiling.

He smiled back at her. “You are welcome, my sister by law.”

She flushed a little. “We’re not married, Thor.” _Not yet, and possibly not legally._

“By Jotan custom, you are,” the Asgardian insisted gently. “And I will treat you as such anyway, if you will allow it.”

It took her a long moment, but Natasha nodded in agreement. She’d never had in-laws before.

~  *  ~  *  ~

By some miracle, Odin agreed and on a Tuesday, seven thousand people disappeared from planet Earth. The news cycles went insane, countries declared martial law, and the nutters came out of the woodwork to tout their own personal beliefs. The Avengers were called out to investigate, and Tony went through the motions. He served as spokesman for the length of the “investigation”, if only because he could bullshit in his sleep.

The truth -- that the missing were alien hybrids who might compromise Earth and were in SHIELD custody -- was withheld from the public. If the hybrids weren’t a danger, it was unethical to out them to the entire world. If they were a danger, they would show it soon enough. For now, they were innocent, and being treated as such.

Tony idly flipped through monitors, watching the captives in a rotating sequence. Most were upset but some were far too calm. He paused on one; an Asian woman in the SHIELD sweats they’d passed out to each prisoner. He was about to move on when she turned and looked up at a corner of the cell.

He leaned forward, watching, but she didn’t move. He tilted his head, taking a sip of bourbon, but she didn’t move. Eyes narrowing, he flipped the view to another cell. The white man inside was staring at the corner. “JARVIS.”

“Sir?”

“Check the video feeds from our guests at SHIELD. I need you to do some math for me.” When his computer agreed, Tony said, “Figure out the percentage that are staring at a fixed spot on the wall, and then tell me if they’re looking at one spot.”

“Working.” Two minutes later, the AI reported, “Approximately twenty percent of them, and they are all looking in the same direction.”

“Where on Earth is that?” he asked.

“It’s not on Earth,” JARVIS reported somberly. “By triangulating all available lookers, I can see that they’re looking at a position in outer space.”

“What position?”

“Nothing that our sensors can pick up,” JARVIS replied.

Tony wasn’t surprised when SWORD contacted them a few hours later to tell them that the Xietsian fleet had been spotted on the edge of the solar system. “We have about three hours until conventional Earth monitoring systems pick them up. About five before Joe Blow with a Walmart telescope can spot them,” Brand told him via video. “So get ready for a panic in six.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

The world governments were notified immediately, of course. SHIELD and the Avengers had to give them as much time to prepare as possible. A few took them seriously before the three hour mark. After, everyone got really serious, really fast. By the time that the riots started, most authorities had something in place to help with the fear.

The Avengers were still busy, hopping around and working to keep the peace around the world. The activities, while tedious, helped Natasha keep her mind off the coming Xietsi.

They were in the middle of quelling unrest in Washington when Tony said, “Look up.”

Natasha did, and froze. A massive ship hung in the sky over them, huge and silver in the blue sky. “Wow, that’s uh…”

“Inspiring,” Tony said. Before she could make a snide remark, he finished his thought. “To build something bigger. I hate not having the biggest of something.”

“Wow, I love it when you just leave them out there like that,” Sam snorted.

“I could say the same,” Tony remarked. “Call it, Cap.”

The ship opened and warriors began to drop, rocket thrusters on their back kicking on during their fall. “Alright, Avengers,” Steve said, “Thor and Tony, take out that ship. Bruce, Sif, Warriors Three, engage them directly. The rest of us will defend civilians first-hand.” He looked up again. “Good luck, everyone.”

With a battle cry, they attacked the invaders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooooo.... when I said that I wasn't giving up? I really meant it, guys. I'm finishing this fic if it takes the rest of my life. Literally.
> 
> So when's the next update? The bad news is, I don't know. The good news is, I hope much sooner than this one. I've started therapy for depression following my sister's death, and I've gone from struggling to write 100 words on a simple story in any given month to pounding out 5,000 this week on a complex, historical short story. 
> 
> Am I fine now? No, I'm not. I'm not calling myself healed just yet, but I'm better. I'm so much better, guys. I have hope that I'll finish this story before my toddler starts kindergarten (in four years). I have hope that the end result won't be hideous. But most of all, I have hope that I'm not going to let you guys down completely. That means so much to me, just as your ongoing support means so much to me. 
> 
> So, just to clarify, I'll probably have two more chapters that are setup for the final act, then we'll be on to the final leg of this story, and close to being done. Just a head's up: I won't be dealing with the battle too much, as it's not the final act. It's just a set up for the end. 
> 
> I hope you guys continue to love this story as much as I do. Thanks for holding in there and believing that I'll finish. Knowing that really, really, really helps. Thank you.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry guys. I promise a happily ever after. I promise.
> 
> TW: death, violence, death.

The  _ Milano _ tailed the  _ Inflictor _ , hiding in her radar shadow. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Gamora asked testily, her eyes on the massive ship hanging over their heads. 

“Better than any you guys had,” Peter told her, his gaze also on the ship.

“I think that’s an overstatement,” Loki growled. “I thought mine was rather good.”

“You don’t get a vote, dude,” Peter said without any real rancor. He still didn’t trust Loki, but the jotun had been a model guest, and the others’ hostilities were easing. Gamora’s acceptance of him helped, and also revealed Peter’s infatuation with her, at least to Loki. He’d become an expert in the signs of love.

“I liked my plan,” Rocket said, his tail twitching slightly. 

Gamora sighed. “Of course you did. It involved blowing something up.”

“I am Groot,” the little twig said from his pot.

“Are we ready?” Quill asked, glancing back at them. “Because we’re almost there.”

Ahead of the  _ Inflictor _ , they could see the Kree station, a multilevel silver ring hanging in space. Peter maneuvered the  _ Milano _ so she was a little closer to the  _ Inflictor _ . It wouldn’t help their plan if the station saw them.

They remained with the Kree ship until it docked, then slipped along the curves of the station until the  _ Milano _ rested in a shadow at the junction of two bulkheads. Rocket was left on the ship for when they needed to make a sudden get-away -- despite that not being implicit in the plan, everyone knew that was coming eventually -- while the other three mobile Guardians plus Loki spacewalked along the hull toward one of the  _ Inflictor _ ’s secondary airlocks.

As Gamora applied one of Rocket’s devices to the locking mechanism, Loki made an illusion of a closed airlock. The Guardians entered, cycled the airlock, and opened the inner door with the two Kree guards on the other side none the wiser. Their first indication that something had gone terribly wrong with their day was Loki slitting the right’s throat while kicking the left in the head. 

Peter winced at the carnage, while Gamora made sure that the living Kree would stay unconscious. Drax nodded in admiration, stepping over the two on the floor. “Which way?” he asked, looking left and right and forward. The lights overhead were a deep blue, signalling that it was the night shift. They had thought it would be, but converting Kree time to Galactic Standard was always tricky.

“I don’t know. Pick a direction and start looking,” Loki said, focusing on drawing up another illusion. “I plan to go toward their labs.”

“Why there?” Drax asked. “Why not their prisons?”

“Because to the Kree, they are one in the same,” Gamora growled. 

“Nice,” Peter said, his tone dripping sarcasm. “Where are the labs then?”

Ahead of them, two Kree guards entered the hallway from the left, striding toward them. Thanks to Loki’s illusion, they were caught off-guard when Drax stepped forward and knocked their skulls together. The two collapsed, and Loki continued talking as if the interruption had never occurred. “I’m not sure where they are, but I think I’ll ask these two.”

It was the work of only a few minutes to bind the two; Peter pulled out a capsule and crushed it under their noses. With a jerk, the two guards woke up, jerking their heads away from the foul-smelling salts instinctively. 

Loki knelt in front of them. “I have questions. If you answer them, I’ll leave you restrained in a place you’ll be found before you die. If you do not, I’ll put you out the airlock and vent you into space.”

“I’d rather die than betray my people!” the one on the right snapped. 

“Well, then, I’d hate to force you into something you wouldn’t be comfortable with,” Loki said, and threw him into the airlock.

“Loki!” Gamora caught his arm as he reached for the button to cycle the system.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he said, wrenching his arm loose to hit the button. “You know who they took from me, and that coming here would result in blood and death. If you can’t handle that, go wait with the raccoon.”

Peter glared at him as Loki turned back to the second prisoner. “Don’t kill me!” the man babbled.

The jotan allowed himself a small smile. “Then speak.” 

“The labs are on the upper levels, but he might not be there,” the soldier said so quickly his words almost tripped over one another. “If he didn’t agree to serve the Kree willingly, he would have been brainwashed and placed among the troops. He might be in the barracks.”

“You need to be more specific,” Loki purred menacingly. “Where are the labs, specifically, and where are the barracks, specifically?”

The man drew in a deep breath and started talking.

*  *  *

The labs were empty, and Loki cursed the decision to examine them first. They’d wasted valuable time searching them, and the night shift was almost done. Gamora looked at his pinched, angry face and said softly, “It was a good thought.”

“He wasn’t there.” Loki tried to modulate the anger out of his voice; Gamora only meant to help and didn’t deserve his ire.

“We’ll find him, Loki,” she said softly, putting a hand on his arm. The easy familiarity wasn’t missed by Peter, who scowled at him.

_ For fuck’s sake _ , he growled to himself, swallowing his irritation. He’d explained that he was bound to two others, and that he had no interest in Gamora. Whether she felt the same was not his business, and it was Peter’s only if he were one she wanted. 

Love and romance was so  _ tiring _ . 

They came to another hallway, and Loki double-checked that his illusion of them as Kree guards held. He could have done an empty hallway, had Drax not walked like he was trying to personally crush all of his enemies underfoot with each stomp. There were limits, even to his powers.

The lights flared to sudden brightness as they reached the door, and Loki tensed. Nothing else happened, and after exchanging nervous glances with one another, they stepped into the next room. 

“The Barracks” brought up images of a series of rooms, filled with utilitarian beds and perhaps some kind of foot locker. Loki stopped to stare at the massive chamber they were in, awed by its sheer size. It was as tall as the ship, with wire mesh catwalks and platforms arrayed above and below them. Each platform held fifty or so narrow cots, and were completely open. Kree soldiers, both blue-skinned and pink, lay sleeping on the cots, without a blanket or pillow. There was zero privacy and Loki struggled to imagine living this way. He was jarred out of his stare when he saw that the Kree were stirring in their beds.

“We need to go-” Peter started to hiss, but it was too late.

“Hey!” A Kree approached them from the platform right in front of the group, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Who are you? Where’s the rest of your squad?”

“We’re new,” Peter lied glibly, stepping forward with his charming, slick smile. “I don’t suppose you could help us?”

“Who are you?” the guard hissed. He wore officer’s markings on his armor, and Loki saw where this was going. 

“I’m going to drop it,” he muttered, and saw his companions ready themselves. Their illusions snapped to smart attention, and Peter’s started to stammer, “Sir! I’m sorry--”

The real Peter shot the officer, and the others followed him into battle. Loki released all the illusions with a grateful smile, aiming at a blue-skinned officer on another platform and opening fire with his assault rifle. Then some of the Kree were firing back, and the Guardians and Loki scattered to make themselves harder targets. Peter stayed in motion, bouncing around the space while firing at his targets and trying to keep them from hitting him. Gamora and Drax were more direct, closing to melee with the ranged fighters. Loki began to pick off the melee fighters, who were trying to encircle the two.

For a few moments, the battle held, but there were far too many Kree. The Guardians pulled back into the corridor, where fewer Kree could get at them. Loki alternated between illusion and firepower, causing one Kree to strike at one another and then putting a bullet into him. They tried to close with him, but his training kept his attention on his peripheries as well as his lines of attack, and none could get close. His magic and Hydra training flowed together as one, and Loki grinned at the exultation of battle. 

“We should fall back!” Peter shouted. “Get back to the ship!”

They had retreated, Loki wanted to argue, but he was too busy striking down the foes who had dared to take his Phil from him. Gamora did it for him, calling out, “We’re winning, Peter!”

They were, at a grisly cost to the Kree. Loki knew it wasn’t fear for themselves motivating the young human, but fear of what they were doing. It was horrible, terrible slaughter, and he didn’t care. All he cared about was Phil.

He turned from a shot, and selected another target for his illusions--

_ Phil _ . His Phil stood not two feet away, closer than Loki had allowed any other Kree to get.  _ Of course you allowed him close _ , he thought, weapon lowering.  _ It’s Phil, our Phil _ \--

The blade took him in the heart, a perfect attack. Loki looked down at the sword in him, and at Phil’s hand still on the sword. “Phil,” he whispered, reaching out and stroking fingers down his face. “I love you.”

His legs gave way and the jotun went down, collapsing to the floor. The sword pulled out of his chest, and Loki didn’t even feel the pain anymore. Distantly, he heard Gamora scream his name but his full attention was on Phil. His lover stared at him, confusion on his face, and Loki smiled.  _ Of course they brainwashed him. The only way… they could take him … I freed him. _ As the light faded, Loki saw horror cross Phil’s face, saw his lover drop to his knees and start to cradle him, and he tried to tell Phil it was fine, that Loki didn’t mind this sacrifice. Only he slipped away and fell into darkness.

He fell for a long time.

*  *  *

Phil woke in the middle of battle, Loki’s voice ringing in his ears. He looked down, and saw his lover splayed on the floor, blood welling from a vicious stab to the chest. “No, Loki!” he cried, dropping the object in his hand and cradling Loki in his arms. “No, no,” he pleaded, “hang on, hang on. I’ve got you.”

Distantly, Phil realized that the Guardians had shifted to stand between them and the Kree, holding back the enemy. 

Loki’s mouth moved but no words came, only a welling of blood. Phil blinked back the tears and held him closer. He knew what that meant, that blood and the dazed, distant look in his eyes.  _ I can’t save him _ , he thought, his eyes falling on the thing he’d dropped.

A bloody sword.

Phil rocked back on his heels, taking a longer look at Loki’s wound. It was thin but deep, a sword wound. 

“No,” he groaned, his arms tightening around Loki in denial. “I couldn’t--”

_ Natasha.  _ How would he tell Tasha?

He’d been brainwashed. He knew that. It didn’t matter when the light faded from Loki’s eyes and his body went completely limp. Phil felt the shock recede, replaced by rage, and he laid Loki down and picked up his sword again. The Kree had taken his will from him. They’d taken Loki from him. 

With a scream of rage, he turned on his former captors, slashing at them without mercy. Some part of him knew that some were brainwashed and unwilling like he had been, but the grief fueled a rage he’d never known. He cut and hacked, driving deep into their number without care for himself. Drax and Gamora paced him somehow, barely keeping up as his anguish gave him strength. 

Berserker. Had he watched himself, that is how Phil would have described himself, but he didn’t care. Every Kree he cut down was another one punished for what they had done to him. Rationality, the part that knew he wasn’t really hurting those who had wronged him, had no part of this; it was blind rage.

Rage and shame. 

He ignored all the attacks on himself, feeling the wounds distantly. The Guardians protected him as best they could, but he had a mission: to stop the pain in his heart. There was only one way to do that, and it was almost a relief when one of the Kree shot him in the chest. 

It was only when his broken heart was physically broken did he find peace. How long he floated he didn’t know, but a woman on a winged horse appeared before him. Her eyes were gentle as she held out a hand to him. “Come with me,” she said softly. “You’ve earned your peace, warrior.”

Phil took her hand, and became  _ einherjar _ . 

*  *  *

In the middle of the battle -- one of the many she’d fought since the invaders arrived -- Natasha paused. Her eyes were drawn to a point above the horizon, tears threatening. Something was wrong.

She knew what was wrong. 

They’d left her.

Then a four-armed alien rose over her, prepared to kill her, and she fell back into the rhythm of battle. It gave her comfort, to ignore her pain, and fight for the only thing she had left: Earth.

*  *  *

“I have claimed him,” Odin said, opening his eye.

Heimdall stared out into the darkness, his sight on the far distance. “She has claimed Loki.”

“I thought she would.” Odin’s voice held sorrow as he said, “My son is lost to me.” It was strange: once, he’d thought that he could never forgive Loki for what he’d done to the realms. With his death, Odin found that he regretted his loss -- and that Loki could never become the man Odin had wished him to be.

Heimdall turned back to his liege, speaking with the comfort of a millennia of service. “A piece of him remains still, battling on Midgard. Even with Thor, the Warriors Three, and Sif, the war doesn’t go well for them.”

Odin held his breath, thinking. That connection, tenuous as it was, held the last living essence of his son. “Prepare the Bifrost. We go to Midgard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys forgive me! Next chapter will be up as soon as it's done, and it's got about 800 words worth of done. :)


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cavalry arrives.

Natasha couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this tired, but she couldn’t sleep yet. They’d been fighting on and off for over a week. Meals were choked down over hasty briefings that all blurred together, and sleep had been snatched during the shortest moments of respite. Knowledge also stole some of her energy: she knew what was coming.

Despite all of their effort, they were losing.

A city a day in each country. That was roughly all the progress the Xietsi made, but they did it, and the Earthlings couldn’t regain that ground. The humans had forgotten all of their differences in the face of the invasions, but it didn’t change the fact that they were losing. There were too many, too much, and more aliens coming via ship when they did make headway. There was no portal to close this time.

Australia was lost. Japan would be soon. Africa was a mess, but they were almost holding their own -- Natasha thought that if they were the last countries left, it would only be too appropriate for Africa to be the birthplace and the grave of humanity. Asia and Russia were shrinking slowly. South America was falling from the southern tip northward. North America was among the slowest being whittled away, but it was happening. Here, the Xietsi were marching southward, and held the Northern Territories and Alaska. 

Natasha fought like a madwoman every time she went into battle. Earth was all that she had left. No one believed her, of course, except Thor. She had told him, the second they’d had time, and he’d wept silently. The other men tried to tell her to keep her chin up, to not give up hope. Even Tony had tried, in his own horrible, kindly way, to encourage her to hold on. She knew they were gone, though, without question. 

“Here they come again.” Steve’s quiet remark cut through her attempt to rest and she rolled off the cot. They were at the front line, somewhere in India, mostly because the Avengers had to be somewhere. They had talked about splitting up around the world but in the end, had remained together to provide the best offense. They bounced around wherever they were needed most, but at best, they were trying to stick fingers in dykes. No one said that aloud. Natasha thought about it sometimes, but it seemed pointlessly cruel to the men. They were trying so hard to keep their morale high.

There was no question where her morale was. 

The Avengers surged into battle with as much fervor as they could manage. Natasha knew that all of them would be the first to admit it wasn’t much eagerness, but after a week of near-constant fighting, no one could ask more from them. She stuck close to Steve, Sif, the Warriors Three, and May, engaging the enemy one-on-one. She and May mostly hung back and took opportunities as she saw them, letting the heavy hitters do the heavy hitting.

She casually picked off a Xiet who’d jumped too high, hanging in the air for a beat too long. As she scanned the skirmish line for her next target, the ground heaved behind her and May. The two women spun in alarm, four Xietsi pulled themselves out of the ground. They were too close, even as the two women jumped backwards.

A pillar of golden light dropped from the heavens, knocking the four aliens back into their hole. A massive animal appeared with a horse-shaped head and too many legs; when it reared, it drew all eyes from its rider to it. No, Natasha realized with a shock, it was a horse: a horse the size of a small elephant with eight legs. Its rider had a blazing blue eye, which stared around the battlefield in fury.

More men appeared from the Bifrost, even as Odin shot down a Xiet with a beam of golden light. As the Asgardians spread out and began to pound the invaders mercilessly, Odin looked at Natasha. “Mate of my son,” he said in greeting, leaning down and offering her a hand.

Her eyes widened, but it seemed rude to decline, and she took the hand. He straightened and drew her up, and Natasha found herself sitting behind his saddle, holding on to Odin’s belt. From her seat high on Sleipnir, Natasha had a great view of the fight. Pulling her gun, she started to help in her own way.

“Father!” Thor landed with a rumble of thunder next to the magic horse, who just snorted at the Asgardian prince. “You came!”

“Yes, I did. To honor my fallen son, to preserve his mate and her home, we defend Midgard.” Odin raised his spear, holding it high while Natasha clamped her jaw shut so it wouldn’t hang open. “The fleet comes, the army is here! Fight with me, my son!”

Screaming in wordless agreement, Thor threw himself into battle, with Sleipnir only a step behind. Natasha went along for the ride, picking off targets with precise shots of her pistol. She found herself grinning, despite her grief, caught up in the Asgardians’ love of fighting. It was like riding a wave of war, the fury and exaltation sweeping all away before it. Pain. Enemies. Grief.

Within an hour, the Asgardians had accomplished what Earth could not alone: victory.

*  *  *

There were grumbles of course. Most people were too busy cleaning up fallen alien bodies, destroyed buildings, and burying their dead, but there were always a few folks who couldn’t stop asking questions. Why had the Asgardians waited so long? How many could have been saved had they responded sooner? How many of the dead were on King Odin’s head?

Natasha thought they were very good questions, but she didn’t care. Especially not when two Asgardian soldiers found her three days after Ra had left the Solar System. Their expressions were grim, even as one politely inclined his head and said, “Lady Natasha, would you please accompany us to Asgard?”

Thor had said there would be a ceremony or funeral or something for Loki and Phil. Nothing elaborate: Loki was still a criminal in Asgard, and it was only Odin’s will that it was happening at all. She suddenly didn’t want to do this. “Can we get Thor?”

“Prince Thor will be coming,” the other said softly. “We have been instructed to accompany you while you gather your things and escort you to the palace.”

“Right.” Natasha went to Steve’s office first, and told him what was happening. The sympathy in his face felt like a physical blow; he was too damned good at emoting. 

“Can we come?” he asked softly. 

“I’ll ask when I see the big man,” she told him, quirking a little smile at him. “Since they call me ‘Lady Natasha’, I might have some pull there.”

Steve grinned. “Asgardian royalty? Who’d have thought that would happen.”

“Being the jotun mate of a prince has perks, I guess.” Natasha’s smile faded. “I don’t want to do this, Steve. I lost Phil once. I buried him once.”

“Can he be brought back again?” Steve asked. “Can they use it on Loki?”

Natasha shook her head. “We don’t even have their bo--” She choked on the word, her throat closing. For a second, her impassive demeanour slipped, and Steve saw her hidden well of pain. Then she had control again. “Phil said that the process was imperfect. He feared the long-term effects. I’m not sure I could do that to him, or to Loki. Not for my own selfish purposes.”

“You’re not the only one who wants them back,” Steve told her gently. 

Natasha shook her head. “We don’t always get what we want. I’ll talk to Thor and Odin about inviting you guys to the service.”

Steve came around the desk and hugged her. “If you need anything--”

“I know.” With one last smile she didn’t feel, Natasha left his office. The guards, who had waited patiently while she spoke to Steve, waited just as patiently as she packed a bag. Then they escorted her outside, where a Quinjet waited. Thor sat inside, looking despondent. Jane sat next to him, holding his hand. 

That hurt, a sudden spike of grief that tore into her heart. Jane still had her Asgardian, still had someone’s hand to hold. Natasha stuffed the feelings down and smiled at them. Neither noticed her discomfort, caught up in their own grief and grief support.

The Quinjet took them to an open field outside of New York, and from there, the Bifrost grabbed them, pulling them up into Asgard. It was a mind-blowing experience, being pulled up through the golden light, feeling almost one with its radiance.

When they stumbled into the kingdom of Asgard, Natasha looked around with wide eyes. A massive golden dome stretched over their heads, while a gold-armored man drew a sword out of a central pillar. “Prince Thor, Dr. Foster, Lady Natasha,” he intoned in a deep voice, “welcome to Asgard.”

“Thank you,” Natasha murmured, once again pulling up a smile she didn’t feel. 

“The King awaits you in the palace,” the Bifrost’s guardian said. “In the Grand Ballroom.”

Thor inclined his head. “Thank you, Heimdall,” he murmured, offering Jane his arm. After a second of hesitation, he offered the other to Natasha. 

“I’m okay,” she declined with a smile. “Lead on.”

He did, walking out of the golden dome. She’d thought it was part of the palace, until she saw the palace, in the distance down the rainbow bridge. “Have your people never heard of transportation infrastructure?” Natasha asked as they started the long walk.

“Nay,” Thor said in his booming voice. “We have skiffs for long travel, but this is a mere stretch of the legs.” 

Jane’s face said the same thing Natasha was feeling but neither woman pointed out that they were a spacefaring culture that had decided to walk everywhere instead of riding in comfort. Normally, she would have pondered that, but she couldn’t think about anything other than the absences in her life. Loki hung around them like a ghost, especially when Thor would tell her stories about their long childhood. It was his way of grieving, but Natasha wanted silence and solitude. 

_ We don’t always get what we want _ . She certainly wasn’t.

*  *  *

The palace was as beautiful and ostentatious as the rest of Asgard, but her people were warm and friendly. Thor was clearly beloved, and Jane received a share of that adoration. A little even splashed onto Natasha, just for being in the golden prince’s presence. 

The warmth lasted until they reached the Grand Ballroom, where it all became quiet sobriety, just like being in a funeral home. The ballroom was no smaller or less grand than any other room she’d seen in this place, so she wasn’t sure how it’d gotten the name. It was so over-the-top, yet she could see Loki growing up here, surrounded by all this wealth and beauty. 

Odin stood in the center of the open room, standing at the head of two capsules, each large enough to hold a human. From this angle, Natasha couldn’t see what was in them, but suddenly she knew. Her bag thudded to the floor as she hurried forward, pushing blindly past Odin as tears blurred her vision.

Phil. Loki. The caskets had a forcefield enclosing the top, and her lovers were visible to her. Their bodies lay side by side in repose, their expressions identical masks of peace. Their hands had been folded over their hearts, and both wore fine clothing. Natasha stood between them, shaking and weeping, her hands splayed over the glowing field. A rough hand grasped her shoulder; Thor and Jane had joined her. The other woman pulled Natasha close, and they both wrapped her in a hug.

She wasn’t sure how long she sobbed in Thor and Jane’s arms, for once not caring to hide her emotions. Why bother? 

Only when she’d run dry of this wave of grief did she stand straight and bottle her emotions back down. Thor’s face was just as wet, but he glanced sharply past her shoulder, and Natasha turned to see a green-skinned woman standing a careful distance away. A red-headed human man stood behind her, looking uncomfortable. Across the room, a red-skinned fireplug of a man sat next to a bipedal raccoon. Normally, all of that would be worth a good stare, but it seemed too much effort today. 

“Natasha?” the woman asked. When the spy nodded, she said, “I’m Gamora. I knew Loki, when he was prisoner of Thanos. We were friends. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Loki had never mentioned this woman, but that didn’t matter. Natasha didn’t care if she were trying to run a scam or not. Let Odin or Thor deal with it. “Thank you,” she replied, sure she was going to be very tired of saying those words. 

“Loki spoke about you and Phil a great deal.” Gamora managed to say the expected words with sincerity. “He loved both of you--”

“I know.” Natasha hadn’t meant to put that much bite into her voice, but she was rapidly becoming exhausted with these pleasantries. 

“Good.” Gamora looked a little uneasy now but she added, “That’s why we brought their bodies back to you.”

That caught Natasha’s attention immediately. “You were there? When they died? What happened?”

Drawing a deep breath, Gamora told her how Loki had convinced them to track the  _ Inflictor _ , and what they’d found inside the ship. She described the final battle in a dispassionate voice, explaining how they fought the Kree. “Loki found Phil first, or rather Phil found him. The Kree had brainwashed him,” Gamora said, her words speeding up and leaving a terrible feeling in Natasha’s gut. “He stabbed Loki.”

“What?” Thor’s angry growl matched a boom of thunder outside the palace, making Gamora and her companions look around warily.

Grief flooded her anew but Natasha shoved it away. “What happened next?”

“It broke the brainwashing. Phil was with Loki as he died,” Gamora continued, her voice delicate. “When he had passed, Phil threw himself into battle, until he was killed. We got their bodies and brought them here. We thought it was the right thing to do.” 

“For that, we owe you a debt,” Odin said, his voice filling the room. Even as Gamora shook her head, the Asgardian king said, “You have returned my son’s body, and the body of his mate. Asgard thanks you.”

Natasha tuned out the rest of the conversation, putting her hands back on the caskets.  _ Would it have changed anything, if I had gone? _

She liked to think so, but she also knew that had she gone, Earth would be conquered. Odin hadn’t helped them out of kindness; he’d done it out of grief and perhaps guilt. She’d saved her homeworld, at a high cost. 

_ You’ve survived being alone before _ . She managed a sad, determined smile.  _ You’ll be fine. _

If she told herself that long enough, it might even become truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is being written right now.


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha goes for a ride.

“King Odin requests your presence, my lady.” 

Natasha turned after a beat of silence; she kept forgetting that she had a title here. “Now?” she asked, glancing down at her jacket and blue jeans. Thor had said he’d show her and Jane some of his and Loki’s favorite childhood play areas, and she’d dressed to go hiking, not for a royal audience. It was all part of his continuing plan to distract Natasha and himself from the loss of Loki and Phil.

The guard blinked. “Yes, my lady. Now.”

Either jeans were dressier here in Asgard, or Odin’s court was far more casual than she’d been lead to believe. She wasn’t worried either way; Thor had told her that given the Odin’s recent turnaround in feelings for Loki, Natasha could probably get away with making quite a few  _ faux paus _ . Of all the things she’d experienced since starting to love Loki, knowing that she had a get-out-jail card with Odin was probably the strangest.

She followed the guard, slowly tensing as he got closer to the Grand Ballroom. Loki and Phil had been lying in state for the last day, and would remain there for at least two more days. It allowed the subjects to come and pay their respects. Right now, the big doors were closed, and two guards were turning people away. When Natasha arrived, the guards bowed and opened the door.

They shut it again behind her, with a hollow boom that fit the swords and sorcery theme to room -- or to the entire kingdom. The room was empty, save the two coffins and Odin, whom serenely watched her approach. She did so warily, unsure what the king wanted of her. Her first thought was a private viewing for the family, but Thor should have been here, too. “Your Highness?” she asked as she bowed her head. She didn’t treat him like her king, but a little politeness never hurt.

“What would you give to have them back?” he asked softly, his blue eye watching her carefully.

Natasha’s breath caught in her chest for a moment. With anyone else, she’d be doubtful of the quiet implication in his words, but this was Odin, the Allfather of Asgard. “Anything,” she answered.

“Do you mean that?” he asked. “Would you risk all that you have?”

“All I have, all you have, anything. I want them back,” she said. She pushed her emotions away as hard as she could, focusing on the Asgardian’s words -- and what he wasn’t saying. “Are you telling me that I can have back?”

“I am saying there is a way.” His blue eye seemed to dim as he stared at her. “You carry within you a place of death.”

Natasha barely held in her flinch. 

_ Wheels chattering on a tile floor. Lights streaming by overhead as she stared up, waiting for the long trip by gurney to end. The cold doctors, their impersonal babble. The prick of a needle and blackness.  _

_ Loki. Phil. _ The thought of them steadied her. “Yes,” she said, and her voice didn’t waver. 

“Phillip Coulson resides in Valhalla. I caught his soul and pulled him over into my army.” Odin looked down at Phil, his gaze distant, and Natasha wondered if the king could see her lover. “He didn’t fall to one of the higher races, so there is a chance I can restore his body, and reunite his soul to it.”

“Thank you.” Natasha raised her eyebrow. “You haven’t said the same for Loki.”

“My son didn’t die in battle.” Odin turned to look at the jotun’s body. “He had lain down his weapons, rather than fight his mate. I had no claim over his soul.”

“So who has it?” Natasha asked.

“Hel. And she’ll not return him willingly.” Odin’s jaw clenched. “She is greedy for souls, especially the souls of the higher races.”

Natasha let the ‘higher races’ crap go for the second time; now was not the time for that fight. “So can I steal his soul from her?”

Odin blinked, turning to look at her. For the first time, Natasha felt as if he were looking at  _ her _ , not at his preconceived notion of her. “With difficulty,” he answered. “It will require that I cast a spell on you, and you will have to brave Helheim to find him.”

“Tell me what I’ll be facing,” she said, “and point me in the right direction.” 

*  *  *

It was more complicated than that, of course. First, Odin debriefed her on the dangers of Helheim and the rigors she’d face in Hel’s Realm of the Dead. The fact that the Asgardians could collect the souls of others was a troubling revelation, but she only cared that it would give them back to her. 

The realm had no map, no real paths. Only Hel knew its ways, and Natasha would have to navigate it blind. Light sources were scarce, almost as scarce as food and water. Odin supplied all three to her: a flask of water that never ran out, a loaf of hearty bread that replenished itself each night, and small glowing globe, set into a ring of iron large enough to slip over her hand. 

The spell that Odin cast required her to only touch Loki. After that, she wasn’t sure what exactly would happen, but the King of Asgard told her that it would pull Loki into the place of death inside of her. He’d be somehow hidden by the spell, shielded from Hel’s gaze by her living flesh. Natasha had asked Odin to explain what would happen exactly, but every attempt had left her more confused than before, and she finally stopped asking for clarification.

To enter and leave, Natasha would have to go past Hel, who didn’t exactly welcome visitors. The goddess was mercurial, giving and greedy in turns, and those turns depended on her mood at the time. Odin described her as “two-natured”, which was hardly reassuring when one thought about the sheer power the goddess wielded. The good news was that she could be sentimental. The bad news was that she could be terribly cruel, though generally not without cause. She shouldn’t hurt Natasha, not just for entering her realm and making a request.

_ Shouldn’t _ .

That last didn’t matter though. For the first time since she’d felt their absence from her soul, Natasha had hope again. Nothing and no one could steal that from her. Thor tried to talk her out of going; he understood that she hurt but he didn’t understand the depths of the pain. More than once, she wondered if the bond Loki had spoken of had influenced her but in the end, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t be sure one way or another, so she didn’t worry about it.

Instead, she worried about what to say to Hel. She read everything that Odin had on the goddess granting favors, which was both a lot and not much. There were plenty of stories and writings about her benevolence or lack thereof, but they all ended one of two ways: Hel granted the favor, or she didn’t and punished the person who’d made the request. There weren’t many hints about how to turn things to your favor, only the tales of what the goddess had done in response.

Once she’d done all she could to prepare, once there was nothing left for her to do, she went to see them one last time. Their bodies lay in state still, waiting for her to return. She waited until the citizens paying their respects moved away, then she stepped up and put a hand on each coffin. 

“I don’t know if this will work, guys,” she said softly. “I don’t know if I’m about to get killed, or if the end of this means that I get to hold you in my arms again. I know that you might be angry that I am taking this risk, but it’s my choice. I choose to take this chance to live in a world  _ with _ you both, rather than one alone. You’ve only been gone a couple of weeks, but it’s already felt like years. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“If you fail, do you want Father to try to bring Phil back anyway?” Thor asked behind her.

Natasha hid her jump, twisting around to face him. He looked drawn and sad, aged a little by grief. “Only if Phil wants.”

“Right now, all he wants is the glory of battle and the joy of feasting after.” Thor smiled sadly. “It is a small comfort that Father can give: the gift of not remembering those they leave behind.”

“He’s happy?” Natasha asked softly.

“Not as happy as he’d be here,” Thor said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “but he knows a kind of happiness.” 

“Then leave him there,” she said. “I can’t imagine he’d be any happier here without Loki and I than I am without Loki and him. Besides, Odin said that the rejoining of Phil’s body and soul would be easier if Loki were here, too. Something about drawing on the bond to make it work better. I’m didn’t understand the specifics.”

Thor gazed at her sadly. “I won’t try to talk you out of this again--”

“Good, because you can’t.”

“--but I will beg you to be careful,” he finished. “I have lost two people whom I care for. I have no wish to lose another.”

“I’ll be back,” she told him, forcing confidence. “I’ll be back, with Loki.” 

He pulled her into a crushing hug. “I shall walk you to the Bifrost, if you allow.”

Natasha smiled. “I will allow.” 

They didn’t say much as they walked; it had already been said, several times in some cases. The great golden dome echoed hollowly when they entered. Heimdall turned to glance at them, nodding. “King Odin would like to say his good-byes. He will be here soon.”

“Okay.” Natasha sat down and opened her bag, going through it one more time. Magic waterskin. Magic bread. Magic light watch. Not-magical pistol, and ammo. A first-aid kit. Another set of clothing. Extra socks. Hygiene products. She allowed herself a small smile as she repacked the bag.  _ Everything a girl needs for a quest into the Underworld _ . 

The pounding of hooves announced Odin’s arrival, and Natasha moved to stand beside Thor. The Allfather arrived and dismounted from the black horse with grace, managing the long drop to the ground better than his appearance suggested he should. “Prince Thor, Lady Natasha,” he said, greeting them formally as they bowed their heads. 

He turned to Natasha, staring at her with that grim eye. “Are you ready?”

“I am.” 

“Father, can I not go with her?” Thor asked, his voice pleading. 

“We have spoken of this, Thor.” As Natasha absorbed that news, Odin continued, “Hel is unlikely to allow you to visit your brother. Natasha is a mortal, and no danger. At least, that is what she will believe.” He stepped past Thor and offered her a hand. Natasha took it and Odin said, “I have aided you how I can. Will you do this freely, of your own will, knowing the dangers?”

“Of course.” She dared to squeeze his hand.

“Then one last gift, and one last aid.” Odin turned back to the great horse and pulled a dark cloak down into his arms. “Helheim can be cold. Wear this when the shadows are chill.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking it from him. The fabric was soft and thick, yet surprisingly light. It felt like suede under her fingers, and the smell of tanned leather rose from it. She pulled it on, finding that it had covered armholes but no sleeves, allowing her the option to have her arms free. 

Then Odin handed her Sleipnir's reins.

Thor gasped but Heimdall only smiled knowingly. Natasha let her fingers curl around the leather leads, feeling as though she should refuse the help but desperately desiring it all the same. “I don’t have food for him,” she said, “or water. I don’t know how to care for a horse.”

“He doesn’t need food, water, or rest,” Odin told her, as the great black mount lowered his nose to her fingers and sniffed lightly. “He will listen to you, to keep you company in the darkness, and be a boon companion when the spirits close around you.”

“Your Majesty, I’m--” Natasha swallowed and drew herself up a little straighter. “Thank you.” She mounted, pulling herself into the saddle, grateful for her athleticism. Tony would have had a hard time of it without his suits.

“Thank you, Lady Natasha of Midgard.” He raised a hand. “Go get my son, with my blessing.”

Heimdall thrust the sword into the pedestal, and the Bifrost swallowed her and Sleipnir in a blaze of golden light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I don't want to spoil you guys--
> 
> That's a lie. I'd post every day if I could. I've hit a part of the story where it's flowing and we're close to the end, so I hope to finish this soon. I think we'll have 53 chapters all told.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me through this. You've all been awesome!


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha meets Hel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to listen to the music I was when writing this, here's a link to the Youtube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhkfnPVQyaY It's really cool stuff, so check it out.
> 
> Also, this Hel is largely my own creation, as I said in the comments on the last chapter. I don't know what MCU canon Hel is like, and I try to keep in mind that the myths that form the backbone of the Asgardian stuff is an actual, practiced religion. So I try to remove it a couple of steps from the mythology when I go non-canon.

The golden light faded and became darkness. The massive horse moved uneasily beneath her but didn’t seem too alarmed, so Natasha gave her eyes a moment to adjust. Details slowly resolved into a black arch and a path between two walls of craggy, dark stone. Somewhere in the far distance, she heard a mournful howl.

“That must be the guardian.” Her words were ripped away by a sudden gust of wind, and the spy felt eyes on her. It didn’t feel like it normally did when she was being covertly watched. It felt like a crowd of invisible people surrounded her, staring at her. It felt unnatural, supernatural, even, and Natasha wondered if the mistress of the realm was responsible.

On impulse, she waved in greeting. There was no response, not that she’d expected one. It seemed wise to start with politeness when dealing with beings of this power.

“I hope you know standard English commands,” she murmured to Sleipnir, “because I am not great with Western.” When she picked up the reins and tightened her legs, the mythical beast started forward in an easy, rolling gait.

They rode through the deep gorge for hours. Natasha checked her watch once but it had stopped, the LED dial locked at 07:25. She wasn’t sure if that was when she’d left Asgard in EST, but she had the feeling that time didn’t matter here. Maybe it didn’t move at all. Or perhaps all the magic had finally burned out the device. 

It didn’t matter.

The darkness cloaked the palace until she was almost on top of it. The The gorge both ended and tipped downward at a sharp angle, the path leading her to a set of open doors. Hel’s home had been carved out of a mountain of black stone; a few eldritch lights shone from the windows, their sickly purple and green hues providing no illumination.  _ They’re probably for the creep factor, _ Natasha mused, eyeing the structure. 

“That place is huge,” she murmured aloud, finding few entrance and egress points. Those that she did spot involved lots of climbing. The horse tossed his head and stomped his hooves, drawing her out of her consideration. “Easy,” Natasha murmured, leaning forward to pat his thickly muscled neck.

A howl cut through the air, sending Sleipnir into a sideways dance. She turned him back around and swallowed. Odin had told her that she’d face Garm before she even got into Hel’s Hall, but killing the monster would be an insult to Hel. That left one option: a dash for the doors. “Ready for a race?” she asked the horse, checking on her backpack before gathering the reins. Sleipnir pawed the ground eagerly, kicking up rock and dust. “Then let’s go!” 

She leaned forward and thumped her heels against the horse’s thick side, and he took off with a little jump. The wind of his passage quickly became painful to her eyes, and she hunched close to his neck, her hair and hood snapping wildly around her face. 

A dart of movement to the side caught her eye, and she glanced to her right. A last-second sense of danger jerked her eyes back to the left, just as a massive wolf veered toward her. Sleipnir pulled hard to the right, and Garm missed both of them, his teeth snapping shut on air. Natasha yanked the horse’s head back straight and twisted in the saddle to see the wolf a few paces behind them. He got his feet under him and started to chase them down; Natasha could see him slowly gaining.

She turned to look at the doors: too far away.  _ I can’t shoot him.  _ She had her Widow’s Bite.  _ Doesn’t seem like enough _ , she thought, but it was all she had left. She didn’t have to even disable him, just slow him down enough for them to reach the entrance. 

Sleipnir leapt over a small rockfall, as nimble as a cat.  _ You idiot! _ Natasha felt herself grin as she remembered,  _ You’re riding a weapon. _ Garm was big, but Sleipnir was bigger, and she’d seen him kill more than one Xietsi in the war. 

Garm ran next to them, even with Sleipnir’s flank. He was eying the stallion’s legs, judging the distance for an attack, Natasha guessed. She reined the horse hard to the left, and Garm swerved away from the huge hooves, losing a few feet.

The wolf recovered quickly and came up on her right, bringing a grin to her face.  _ Right where I want you _ , she thought, reining Sleipnir in some. The horse fought her, trying to keep up his gallop but she persisted, and he slowed somewhat. She grabbed the pommel of the saddle and, braced her feet in the stirrups, waiting. Garm came up on their side again, and Natasha lunged for the wolf.

He didn’t fear her, so he tried to bite her arm. Natasha let his teeth close around her wrist, because the second he did, the Widow’s Bite flared to life, cracking and snapping. Garm released her with a howl, even as Sleipnir lunged back to a gallop. The change in velocity threw her back and the reins slipped completely out of her fingers. 

With his head free, Sleipnir found even more speed. Natasha clutched tight to him and regained her seat, huddling close to him as she peered over her shoulder. Garm had stopped chasing them, pawing at his mouth. “Sorry!” she called but the wind stole her words. 

Five minutes later, Sleipnir thundered through the gates and finally slowed, prancing on all eight feet as if that long sprint had just been a warm-up. Natasha realized he wasn’t even winded, and her respect for Odin’s horse rose more.

The area should have been a courtyard but Natasha found herself in a receiving room. It was layered in shadows, with only a single line of sickly lights making a double line down the length of the room. The ceilings and the walls were invisible behind the darkness. A throne stood at end of the space, a figure sitting in it.  _ The moment of truth _ , Natasha thought, sliding out of the saddle and taking up Sleipnir’s reins. Despite his clear excitement, the stallion followed behind her without a fuss. 

They weren’t alone. Natasha could hear whispers and shuffling feet in the blackness as she advanced. Sleipnir didn’t appear alarmed, so she imitated him and walked with confidence toward the figure. As she got close, she saw a woman sitting with her face in profile. She had corpse-white skin, a red eye that watched Natasha closely, and wore a finely made hooded dress in black and silver. She kept her face turned away, and Natasha wondered what was wrong with it, that she hid it so. “Queen Hel,” Natasha said, bowing her head. 

“Lady Natasha, mate to the disgraced Prince Loki Laufeyson.” Hel did not bow her head. That gimlet eye fell on Sleipnir. “I see you come with Odin’s blessing. Or do you come doing his bidding?”

“No, I came to ask a personal favor of you,” Natasha said, falling back on her training. She kept her eyes down and shifted her body language to one of a supplicant. 

A smile curved her gray, dead lips, and Natasha had a sinking feeling that she was dealing with the cruel side of Hel today. “You wish to say goodbye.”

“Yes, please.” She kept her voice small, almost childlike, letting Hel know that she had the power here. 

“And why should I do that?” Hel asked, her tone lofty.

“I don’t know that you should, but I ask you to anyway,” Natasha answered. “Please, I’ve lost both the men I loved. Please grant me a moment of closure.”

“But by granting you that closure, I also give it to Loki,” Hel said. “That doesn’t serve my purposes for him.”

Her stomach clenched as her imagination gave her several thoughts about what purposes Hel might have for her lover. “What purposes are that, if I may ask?”

Hel’s eye narrowed. “Do you really wish to know, mortal? If I tell you that he suffers in a pit of fire, burned alive day after day, will that help you sleep at night? Would it not be better to leave here innocent of the knowledge of his state?”

“Innocence of knowledge often leaves us blind. I’d rather be horrified than ignorant.” Natasha slipped a bit of steel into her voice. “Give me hard truth over sweet lies any day.”

“He relives all the evil he has done, but as his victim.” Hel’s voice had gone completely cold. “Each death, each hurt, each pain is revisited upon him. He will learn what a monster he is.”

Natasha ignored her first impulse to demand Loki’s release. “So you would punish me, then? Deny me this last moment to say goodbye?”

“How many goodbyes did you deny?” Hel shot back. “How many did you curse to live without the closure you want?”

Natasha clenched her fist. “If you’re keeping tabs, did you count the people I’ve saved since then?”

“You think some good deeds wash away your sins?” Hel hissed. “Shall we weigh you now, drop spilled to drop saved, or will you wait until your death for my judgement?”

“No, this isn’t about the red in my ledger,” Natasha said, trying to regain control of the conversation. “This is about you, and whether you’ll allow me to speak to Loki one last time.”

“Why?” Hel asked, shrugging.

“Because you want to see him hurt, when I show up, and then leave him. Because you want to hurt me by letting me see him, and knowing I have to leave him there.” Natasha took a step forward and said intently, “Or maybe you can remember that no matter what we have done, we love one another, and he’s been taken away from me far too soon. That all I need is a few minutes to tell him that I love him for last time, before we’re parted forever. You talk about our sins, but I’m asking you to be gracious and grant us this moment.” Tears welled in her eyes as she softly added, “You’ll have him for all eternity. Please.”

Hel’s face turned slowly toward her, and Natasha braced herself for something terrible. Instead, the right side of Hel’s face was normal, healthy with a hit of a golden tan. Her right eye was green, and the hair that slipped out of the hood was wheat-blonde. “How much do you love him?” she asked, her voice gentler.

“Enough to do anything for one more second with him,” Natasha answered, hoping that she wasn’t getting herself involved in something awful.

“Would you eat a child for him?” Hel asked.

Natasha sucked in a breath. Having to revise your absolute statement was never a winning strategy in persuasion. “I mean ‘anything to myself’,” Natasha answered, trying to keep her voice steady. “I wouldn’t hurt another person, especially a child.”

Hel smiled wickedly. “Even after the orphanage?”

_ How does she know so much about me? _ Natasha lifted her chin. “Especially after the orphanage.”

“So you at least are regretful.” The goddess sat back in her throne, her expression calculating. “Granting this would be doing you no favors.”

“I know.” Natasha swallowed. “Please.”

The goddess considered her in silence for a long beat; her head turned to the left, showing Natasha only the healthy side of her face. “Very well. You may enter my realm, find your Jotun, and leave, with my permission.”

Relief surged through her, and Natasha sagged visibly. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.

“Don’t thank me. He is in my lowest halls, and you’ll not like what you find.” Hel turned to face her again.

“Can I leave Sleipnir with you?” Natasha asked, realizing she’d never discussed how to return him with Odin. “Or can you arrange for him to be returned to King Odin?”

“I could, but I think you’ll need him,” Hel told her, lips curling in a little smile. 

Natasha frowned. “You don’t care if I ride him through your halls?”

“Of course not!” Hel looked at the big horse. “He’s a very polite guest.” To the goddess’s left, a line of the purple-green lights flared to life, revealing a new path into the darkness. “Now get on with you. I have other business, and you have quite a task in front of you.”

Natasha mounted Sleipnir and bowed her head to Hel one more time. “Thank you, Your Highness.” 

Hel waved dismissively, already turning to face a figure emerging from the shadows. Natasha took that as her cue, turning her ride down the path into darkness -- and toward her lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too many more chapters now. I hope you enjoy!


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She ate the bread.
> 
> She drank the water.
> 
> She slept hunched over, lying against Sleipnir’s thick neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter; combining this and the next would have made it huge, and this was the only good stopping point.

The path of lights led to an arched hallway, about twenty feet wide and just as tall. Sleipnir headed down the hallway without hesitation, unlike his rider. As he walked, she stared at the black walls, black curtains, and black carpeting. Natasha had pictured the Greek ‘Realm of the Dead’ when imagining her quest, and the ‘Halls of Dracula’ wasn’t a welcome change. 

The lighting continued to be indirect and slight, leaving huge pools of darkness to ride through. “Nope, I’ve seen this movie,” she muttered, pulling the wrist-light out of the side pocket on the backpack. The bright light actually hurt after the extreme darkness of Hel’s domain, and she had to blink before she could see. 

The monochrome look had been driven away by the searing light, leaving a rainbow of colors. Hunter green curtains framed walls covered in a navy blue print wallpaper, while the floor turned out to be tiled with a runner up on the center. The tile was black but glints of silver caught the light and sparkled brightly, while the carpet was a red and black floral print. What Natasha had thought were deformations on the walls were art, paintings and hanging sculptures. All of them were beautiful, but a number of them were disturbing, even to her. 

At the first doorway, she reined Sleipnir to a stop. “Do we look in or not?” she asked the horse. He lazily flicked an ear at her. “You’re no help,” she muttered and directed him toward the room.

His head turned but none of his eight feet moved. “Hey,” Natasha said, squeezing a bit harder with her legs. “You want to go?”

Sleipnir pulled his head back, abusing her of the notion that she’d been in charge of this ride. He started walking again with that easy, rolling gait, right past the door. “Sleipy!” Natasha barked, pulling back on the reins.

That pinned his ears back -- not the tugging on his reins but the bastardization of his name -- and he twisted his head around to look at her. “You’re annoying me, too,” she told him querulously, “and since you can’t talk but have an opinion, we need to work out some kind of truce.”

The horse blinked at her. “How about this,” Natasha said, sliding out of the saddle. “I’m going to take a look in that room, and you stand watch out here.”

Sleipnir snorted sharply. “I don’t know what that means.” She patted his neck. “Look I have to check the rooms. I have to be sure that Loki’s not in them.”

She took a step toward the room and the horse tried to block her, but she’d been ready for this. She ducked under his neck and poked her head into the room before he could intercept again.

The room was brightly lit in neon blue and there were people--

Natasha came to lying on the floor in the hallway, Sleipnir blowing horse-breath across her face. Her head pounded like a drum; when she lifted it, the world spun and her stomach threatened to revolt. “What happened?” she moaned, opting to lay prone again.

Sleipnir stepped away from her, then mimed extending his head, his eyes wide. As she watched, he stiffened and theatrically collapsed onto his side. “I passed out?” she asked. “What the hell was in that room?”

The horse rolled and heaved to his feet, then bent down, grabbed the hem of her cloak in his mouth and dragged her a couple of feet. “Alright, fine, I get it.” She waved her hand at him, waiting for her head to steady. Sleipnir looked at her expectantly and she sighed. “You were right. And thank you.”

He nickered softly and nuzzled her face with a velvet nose. Shakily, she reached up to pet his face, smiling when his eyes half-closed from pleasure. After a short rest, she could lift her head without nausea looming, and even stand up. It still took three tries to get back in the saddle, as her arms gave out the first two times. 

After that, Natasha slumped in the saddle, catching her breath while Sleipnir waited patiently. “So,” she finally said, “how about we have yes/no questions, and you shake or nod.” The horse nodded his head. “Great. Now, do you know how I’m supposed to find Loki if I can’t search the rooms without . . . whatever happened to me?” 

Nod. 

“Do you know the way to Loki?”

Nod.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” she muttered, rubbing her temples and ignoring the bright lights behind her eyelids. “Will you please continue?”

Sleipnir nodded and walked on down the hall, taking it slow. Natasha settled into the saddle, fighting off exhaustion and wondering if she had a concussion.

*  *  *

Time folded on itself, or just looped around. The halls never changed, and the horse never stopped to rest. It took Natasha a while to determine that she didn’t have a concussion, though that really only happened because she fell asleep at some point and didn’t die. 

She ate the bread.

She drank the water.

She slept hunched over, lying against Sleipnir’s thick neck.

She did that over and over, and the big horse just walked onward. 

It didn’t take Natasha long to figure out that time wasn’t the only thing screwed up here; she didn’t have to stop for pit breaks, and hunger and thirst seemed to be reflexes rather than needs. Everytime she checked, her pulse was fine, and she still had to breathe, so she wasn’t a zombie.

Yet. It seemed par for the course at this point.

Nothing was harder than the silence. Every noise she and her large companion made echoed back at her. It took an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that they were moving to the left and down with each of his big steps. 

She ate the bread.

She drank the water.

She slept hunched over, lying against Sleipnir’s thick neck.

Sleipnir walked on.

She started to sleep out of boredom, but her dreams were all about death. Loki’s death. Phil’s death -- both of them. Her own death. Steve’s, Tony’s, Bruce’s: all the Avengers took turns dying in front of her. Worse was the dream of Steve’s corpse walking next to Sleipnir and whispering,  _ “Has he said he’s sorry?” _ , over and over, like some kind of strange emotional Chinese water torture. 

She ate the bread.

She drank the water.

She slept hunched over, lying against Sleipnir’s thick neck.

Sleipnir stopped.

Natasha lifted her head from his neck and gazed around blearily. They were in a large room; the carpet and walls and curtains were gone. The floor under Sleipnir was black rock, as was the wall in front of her.

Two pillars framed a doorway as purple fire danced in sconces at equal points on the frame. There was nothing but darkness beyond the opening. “Why aren’t you moving?” she asked, her voice creaking oddly.  _ Has it been that long since I spoke? _

Sleipnir looked back at her. “Right, yes/no only.” Natasha thought for a moment, surprised at how muddled her thoughts were. “Is this where Loki is?”

Nod.

“Great.” She swung out of the saddle, or tried to. Her legs gave out and she sat down hard on her butt. “Ow.” As the horse sniffed her with concern, Natasha reminded her legs how they worked. She pulled herself up and started forward, only to realize she moved alone. 

She turned back to the horse. “Are you coming?”

Shake.

Natasha swallowed. “You can’t?” she guessed. Odin had told her she’d find Loki alone.

Nod.

She pushed down the panic at going on without him. “Will you wait here for me?”

Nod.

Natasha wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. He pressed his head against her back, the closest he could come to returning her embrace. “If I don’t come back, thank you,” she whispered into his mane. “You are a great traveling companion.”

Then she entered the darkness alone, holding her wrist-light high before her.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deprough)! I'd love to see you there.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She walked.
> 
> She sang.
> 
> She ate and drank.

Natasha stood on uneven rock in a raw, unworked cavern. Sleipnir’s refusal to enter made sense suddenly. She shifted her backpack a little higher on her shoulders and turned to look back through the doorway. She could barely see Odin’s horse waiting for her; she actually saw the purple lights reflecting off of his black coat.

Swallowing, she kept going, each step taking her further into darkness and away from her companion. The moment she couldn’t see him anymore, the whispers started. Things darted through the shadows, just at the edge of her light, or even just behind her. When she finally saw one, it looked more like a wisp of shadow made manifest, not a creature.

Part of her wished they’d just attack and get on with it, but she suspected that Sleipnir would have tried to warn her had there been danger ahead of her. She still didn’t know where she was going, but she kept walking, moving more or less straight.

After the hundredth time that a shade snapped by her and wrung out her nerves yet again, Natasha cleared her throat and started to sing, just to hear the sound of her voice. Without any conscious choice on her part, she picked the one song that made her think of her men: “ _ On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair… _ ” Her voice hadn’t improved but that didn’t matter. Even her rough voice had the power to chase the shades away and comfort her. When she finished that one, she went to Logan’s favorite, “ _ Touch my mouth and hold my tongue, I’ll never be your chosen one… _ ” When that song was done, she went to another one of Phil’s favorites, then to Loki’s, even repeating several, back and forth. 

She sang and walked until her voice cracked and broke, then stopped and rested for a while. When she started to walk again, she sang some more, following the natural lines of the cavern, and looking for any hint that she was close.

She walked.

She sang.

She ate and drank.

She rested when her legs gave out and her voice faded into squeaks.

Natasha had a lot of time to think, too. She wondered where they would live after she had Phil and Loki back. She designed and decorated a number of houses in her head, building bright and airy homes full of warmth and joy. She imagined a life in suburbia, serenity and peace broken up by missions for the Avengers to keep life interesting. 

She really hoped they like granite countertops.

At the edge of the light, she saw a stone platform the height of a bed, and a pale foot. She took another step, and saw another foot, and she hurried forward. 

It was him; she knew it before she got to him. She knew those legs, the hips and waist, and she was whispering, “Loki!” as she wrapped her arms around his head. 

He lay limp, unresponsive to her, his green eyes starting at the ceiling. “Loki?” she asked, then kissed his forehead. His skin was cold as the stone under him. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, feeling for a pulse. 

Nothing.

“No, no,” she begged, taking his cheeks in her hands, “Loki, please! I came all this way for you, please don’t do this to me!”

He drew in a shaking breath. “Natasha?” he asked weakly. “Is that really you?”

“Yes, of course!” She cradled his face, looking into his eyes. “I’ve come to get you out of here!” 

“Help me up,” he hissed, and she did. 

“I have to hide you, to get you out,” she said. “I’m not sure…” What had Odin said she needed to do?

He kissed her, and she held him close, savoring his touch. As she did, he sank into her, disappearing. “That’s new,” she muttered, placing a hand on her stomach. She didn’t feel any different, but she trusted Odin. Turning, she walked back to Sleipnir, covering the whole long path again. Then she mounted the horse, and he carried her back up, over the entire path once more. Hel had little to say to her; she had an audience , merely waved her on her way.

Outside, Garm left them alone, and then they were picked up by the Bifrost. When she and Sleipnir emerged from the light, Loki stood next to her, dressed in his finery. When Odin approached, smiling, Natasha thought,  _ Something’s wrong. _ She couldn’t place a finger on it; something that Odin had told her. 

She played along with the scene before her: Loki swept her out of the saddle and kissed her again, laughing happily. When he didn’t notice that she was troubled, she knew that she was right. This wasn’t her Loki, and it nearly killed her to kiss him back and hold his hand. 

_ What had Odin told me? What am I missing? _

They halfway across the bridge, the imposter’s hand in hers, before Natasha remembered: the spell would trigger when she touched Loki. She planted her feet and wrenched her hand free of his. 

“Natasha?” The confusion and hint of hurt quickly became hard to bear, even knowing that this was all a lie. 

“It didn’t work right,” she said, shaking her head. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked, even as Asgard started to dim behind him.

“Tell me how to stop this,” Natasha ordered harshly. “I know this isn’t real. Tell me how to get out.”

“This is what you want,” the imposter said softly. “This is better than what awaits, if you’ll just allow it.”

“Fuck that,” she snarled, activating the Widow’s Bite and touching the prongs.

Asgard exploded in a flare of pain, returning her to the cave. She lay on the stone platform, while an emaciated form held her in a tight embrace. With Loki’s voice, it said, “But Natasha--”

She elbowed it in the face and rolled away, coming up on her feet. She pulled her gun without thought, training making it an automatic move. With a howl, it surged after her, only to be shot several times. Screaming, it ran away into the dark, leaving a trail of black gore behind itself. 

Natasha waited tensely, holding the gun out and turning around, for it to return. When several minutes passed without an attack, she reluctantly stood down, feeling her heartbeat slow steadily. The cave remained dimly lit, and the platform empty. 

_ It was a trick _ . Anger rolled through her and she took deep breaths to control it. She wondered if the plan had been to keep her here forever, locked in a dream world? Would she have been given everything she ever wanted? What better trap than a perfect lie?

With difficulty, she shook it off. She’d evaded the trap, and dwelling on it would only distract her.  _ Focus on Loki. He’s still here somewhere. _

She spotted an opening at the far side of this chamber. The Black Widow checked her supplies and moved on her path.

She walked.

She sang.

She ate and drank.

She rested when her legs gave out and her voice faded into squeaks.

The songs became important. They kept her focused on her loved ones: each time she sang one of their favorites, she felt a little closer to them. 

The cavern became impassible with jagged stalagmites and rock columns, save for a path through the pointed pillars. The walk became a blur of rock and the narrow foot path Time had no meaning anymore; at least before she’d had the doorways passing by to mark the time by.

She walked.

She sang.

She ate and drank.

She rested when her legs gave out and her voice faded into squeaks.

The path ended suddenly in a rock wall. Natasha shambled to a stop and stared dumbly.  _ Did I miss a turn? _ She looked around closely, ignoring the panic that she’d lost the trail -- that she was lost in a realm of the dead. 

A soft moan made her jump out of her skin and drew her eyes up. It hadn’t been a good noise, full of pain and hurt. She couldn’t see anything beyond the light of her strange lantern, and she closed her eyes and listened intently. 

She almost missed the second moan, but her focus paid off. She  _ knew _ the sound was coming from above. Licking her lips, Natasha hung the ring of her light on a cord around her neck, and started climbing. 

The walking had been repetitive. The climb quickly became agony. She could barely see her handholds above her, and she had to find them by feel. Her fingers soon hurt, and her shoulders and calves ached from holding her weight. Still, she climbed on; whenever she paused for more than five minutes, she could hear that pained sigh again. 

Then came the glorious moment that she reached up to find another handhold and instead found open air. She slapped her hand down on the ledge and pulled herself higher. When she felt in the darkness, she found that she had at least the length of her arm. Groaning, she pulled herself up onto the ledge and rolled onto her back. For a long moment, she panted, surprised to find that she was almost played out. She’d heard other agents speak about this moment, when you’d used all of your reserves and you weren’t sure how you were going to make it out of this situation. Sometimes, it was the last thing they ever said to her. 

Wearily, she lifted the lantern high, squinting past it to see that she lay in a hollow carved in the stone. There were no more paths out, only a tangle of vines at the far back wall. 

That low moan came again, and Natasha thought for a second she would have to climb higher. Then she realized that the vines had made the noise. Then she realized that the vines were the first living thing she’d seen since arriving here. 

_ You should not have trouble recognizing that significance _ , Natasha snapped at herself, and the anger in her thought cleared a bit of brain-fog. Unfortunately, until it retreated, Natasha hadn’t really felt the cloying effects of exhaustion. She knew it wasn’t gone, either; she’d only briefly shaken it.

Rising, she walked toward the vines, holding the light out so that she could see clearly. They were wrapped around something, she saw, something humanoid-shaped, and her heart skipped a beat from hope.  _ Please be. . . _

She recoiled in shock as she saw that the ‘vines’ were a single, long snake, wrapped around and around the poor person. Even if that wasn’t her Loki, she knew she’d rescue them, so she drew her knife and readied her Widow’s Bite. 

Natasha edged forward until she knelt in front of the snake-wrapped mummy, trying to see bare skin. She looked under and over, finally locating an opening in the mess of coils and the head of the snake. It remained motionless, it’s mouth open over the opening, dripping something onto it’s prisoner. 

She swallowed nervously and brushed her fingers over a coil. The snake didn’t react to her touch, and she took a longer look at the shape it was covering.  _ That looks like a torso, there’s the shoulders, so  _ **_this_ ** _ is the head, and the eyes are about  _ **_here_ ** _. _ She took a firm grip on the snake and pried gently, ready to jump back. 

A familiar green eye stared between two muscular coils, focused on something over her left shoulder. Natasha spun and looked, alarmed, but she couldn’t see anything.  _ He isn’t seeing you _ , she thought, wondering what her poor Loki saw. 

The coils had closed ranks once more, and Natasha had to fight them open. The snake seemed to be aware of her, enough to clench against her prying. She managed to wedge her digits through, and the tip of her finger brushed flesh, not scales. 

The world tilted sharply and Natasha found herself on her hands and knees, fighting for breath. It felt as if something living writhed through her body, something made of pain and ice. Natasha bowed her head and fought against the pain, taking deep breaths until it receded to something bearable.

It hurt to stand up straight and Natasha staggered to the drop. It didn’t look that far but she’d come up it already. With a sigh, she lay down on her belly. The pressure on her stomach almost made her vomit, but she held it down and hastily wiggled over the lip, her feet kicking until they found holds. 

She made it almost halfway before she lost her grip and dropped the rest of the way. She twisted as she fell, and cry of pain tearing out of her lips. Her feet caught her and she rolled with the fall, somersaulting twice and coming to a rest on her back. “That. Sucked,” she moaned.

It took two tries to get up and stumble back the way she’d already come. 

Back to Sleipnir. 

Back to Asgard.

Back to her loves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the continuing comments and kudos. You are all wonderful!
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deprough)


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter.

Natasha staggered through the cavern, stopping often to rest. Time flowed in a blur, as she moved blindly. The darkness beyond her lights hissed and whispered with something, but nothing attacked her. She counted that as a huge break, as everything in her torso hurt, and it felt as if a chunk of ice lived in her gut. Even knowing it was Loki did little to ease the pain; it only made it something to endure. 

She walked, sometimes she crawled, and still the cavern stretched before her. She began to wonder if she would be here forever, if she had died, and this attempt to save her lovers was a futile gesture. 

_ Give up _ . The insidious whisper came clearly, and Natasha shivered. She was tired and her body ached unbearably; it would be amazing to just  _ stop _ . To just let go and not worry anymore.

_ Phil. Loki. _ She came back to herself, finding that she’d curled up on the rough ground. Her limbs were cold and stiff, and she groaned as she rolled to her knees. She had to stretch for several minutes, one leg at a time, until she could stagger to her feet. Through cracking lips, she sang, “ _ Dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, the of colitas, rising up through the air… _ ” She sang that song, and  _ Broken Crown _ , and  _ House of the Rising Sun _ \-- anything that reminded her of her two men. Each note became a step; every song marked the passage of time.

Cold blue light gleamed ahead, and Natasha stared at it for a long moment. It looked like her doorway, and then she heard the strike of iron on stone. She laughed with relief, stumbling forward faster.

Sleipnir greeted her by thrusting his head at her, and she fell against the great slab of flesh and bone gratefully. The horse actually supported her weight while she leaned on him and sobbed. She was  _ so _ tired, but having company again was almost blinding in its relief. 

Finally, she straightened and stood, looking up at him. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, and he nodded. She went to his side and stuck her foot in the stirrup. She pulled herself halfway before her arms faltered and she tumbled backwards. “Damn it, Romanoff!” she snapped at herself, staggering back to her feet. “Pull it together!”

She jammed her foot into place, grabbed the saddle, and pulled with all her might. She fell across the saddle with a pained grunt that redoubled the pain her belly and stole her breath. Groaning, she got the other leg over and sat halfway upright.  _ Don’t fall off _ , she noted to herself.  _ You’ll never make it back up _ .

Sleipnir turned and started to walk away, and Natasha grabbed at the saddle again to keep her seat. As he carried her away, she turned to look over her shoulder, trying to see if they were being followed. 

She could the entire path of her solo trek from the door. The darkness had receded, and she could see that it was only a hundred feet or so the back wall. The climb to Loki’s ledge was only five or six feet. It had felt like it had taken her miles, and that the climb had been far higher. 

_ Don’t think about it _ . Natasha turned her back on the room, facing forward. She’d figure it out later. She’d ask Odin. She’d do metaphysical research. Right now, she refused to put any thought to it, because she sensed that she couldn’t take the strain. It had taken her so long, taken so much of her strength, and now it looked like she’d done  _ nothing _ .

“It’s a trick,” she whispered, clenching her fist tight. “Thor will explain it. It doesn’t matter.”

Sleipnir whinnied softly just before picking up speed, settling into a steady lope. Natasha bit back a cry of pain as she bounced in the saddle; it took a minute trying to match his rhythm and to rise and fall with him. After a moment, she gave up and draped herself over his neck, taking the hits as they came. The warmth rising from him beat back the cold inside her; it was worth having the pommel digging into her stomach. 

She expected Sleipnir to take a hall going up, but the horse passed the arch to the hallway they’d taken. Instead, he went deeper still, picking a path only he knew through the caves. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she muttered. It didn’t matter if he didn’t, because she’d be completely lost on her own.

The spirit stepped out of the shadows ahead of them, spectral sword in hand. Sleipnir charged, sparks flashing from under his hooves as he ran. The spirit jerked away from the great horse, but when Natasha peered over her shoulder, she saw the ghost following them. 

Even with the ghost falling behind them, the horse didn’t slow his headlong gallop. More spirits appeared, trying to crowd and block them, but Sleipnir dodged past them. Natasha wondered if they had gone somewhere restricted or if Hela knew what was happening. It didn’t matter why; Natasha didn’t want to be caught by them. She didn’t know what would happen, and she differently didn’t want to find out.

They raced on, and again, Natasha wasn’t sure for how long. Light appeared ahead, an archway that glowed with silver brilliance. After a long moment of staring through Sleipnir’s whipping mane, she realized it was a doorway. 

The ghosts moved a little faster, trying to cut them off, and the horse didn’t slow. Natasha realized that she couldn’t see anything beyond the doorway; the closer they got, the more sure she was. Then they were there, and Sleipnir didn’t hesitate to throw himself out into the empty air.

They hung for a moment, Natasha clamping her jaws shut in an attempt to not scream. Then the brilliant light of the Bifrost enveloped them, and Sleipnir landed on the golden floor of the dome. Natasha lost her grip on his pommel as he got all of his legs under him, sliding off the side. For a second, she was sure she’d done all of that just to die crushed by an eight-legged horse. She hit the ground and rolled with the fall instinctively, aware of a large black form passing over her. Somehow, he avoided stepping on her, and Natasha lay on the floor, curled around the ache in her gut. 

Done. She was done. She was in Asgard, and it was someone else’s turn to fix things. The last thing she felt as she passed out was a pair of strong arms scooping her up.

*  *  *

Loki opened his eyes slowly, feeling strangely tired despite just waking. The ceiling of his room in Asgard spread high over him, and for a moment, he had no idea what day it was. Then he realized that he shouldn’t remember what day it was because he’d died.

Then the memories came back: the dreams that Hela had given him in death returned with a vengeance. He’d lived the deaths and pains of each person he’d killed; over and over, he’d felt the pain he’d administered. Eric Selvig. Thor. Odin. His own beloved Natasha and Phil. Over and over, it had been his own face each time, twisted with terrible delight at the chaos and pain he’d caused. The memories attacked and pulled him back in, as if he’d never left the coils of the serpent.

_ Phil. Natasha. _

Fear for his mates overrode his own pain and Loki forced his awareness out of his own mind. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes again; he brought his focus out of himself and into the world.

Natasha lay to his right, one hand almost touching him. She slept deeply, and he stared at her for a long moment, drinking in the sight of her. He looked to his other side and saw Phil, his strong hands resting on his stomach. 

_ They were alive _ . 

The pain in gut unclenched. His lovers were alive, and they were here. He reached out and took their hands, feeling the tears well. He didn’t deserve this happiness, or their love. He didn’t deserve to be alive. Yet here he lay, with the two pieces of his heart with him. 

Natasha stirred first, her fingers tightening around his. He smiled when her eyes opened and locked onto him. She stared for a moment, then rolled over onto him and wound her arms around him. He put his arm around her and breathed in her scent, feeling safe and loved. “I’m sorry,” he told her.

“For what?” she asked, lifting her head. 

“Everything.” He kissed her. 

She studied him, but her contemplation cut short when Phil stretched, pulling Loki’s hand above his head. Then the man rolled, plastering himself to the other side of Loki. “So,” he muttered into Loki’s chest. “I don’t remember falling asleep. I have some questions.”

“I’ll explain everything. Later. For now, please, just let me hold you both,” Natasha whispered, wrapping her arms around them both. 

Loki thought about demanding answers and slaking his curiosity, but he let it go. Instead, he held his loves tight and drew strength from their presence. He had a long road ahead; he had to counter the pain he’d caused the realms. He was responsible for so much misery and anguish, and he needed to correct that.

He wouldn’t do it alone. He didn’t deserve it, but he’d take their love gladly and selfishly.

Someday, he’d even be worthy of it. 

_ It's really not that complicated. I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out. _

_ Can you? Can you wipe out that much red? _

He would find out.  _ They  _ would find out -- together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done. Thanks to everyone who commented or Kudo-ed. I loved and appreciated your support. It came at the darkest time in my life, and you'll never know what your patience and care has meant to me. I love you all, my readers and supporters. 
> 
> I'm working on another fic, and I'll start posting it when it's done. It's a Darcy fic, so buckle in, it'll be a cuss-y, snarky delight.


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